


CoSL 16: The Most Dangerous Grimm

by Dracophile



Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [16]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, The Tortoise and the Hare, most dangerous game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 06:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20652947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracophile/pseuds/Dracophile
Summary: Part 16 of the Casebook of Sloane LarsonWhile they are working to integrate Trubel into their lives and prepare for the wedding, Bud asks Sloane for a favor that leads her and Nick right into the clutches of a wesen mafioso! He's all about games and has them in a race for their lives, where Grimm are now the prey.(also, The Inheritance re-write!)





	CoSL 16: The Most Dangerous Grimm

**“Keep your boasting till you’ve beaten me,” answered the Tortoise.**

** “Shall we race?”**

\-------------------

Ryker Dowling’s luck was truly, wholly, and unwavering awful. It was the sort of luck where it rained when he wanted sunshine, he’d be rear ended days after buying a new car, he’d bounce from job to job after being fired or his business ventures folding up, which occasionally led to losing whatever apartment he had a the time and couch surfing with his friends more often than he liked.

He called it bad luck.

“Dowling!”

But it was really his own doing.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!”

Ryker jumped and looked back. “Oh, uh…hey Mr. Powell,” he said, looking nervous. The man was a big, beefy sort that looked as though he ate bears for breakfast—and he very well might. Olive skinned, thin haired and with a nasty scar down his cheek, he looked every bit the enforcer he was and he did not look happy. Ryker wiped his hands on a rag from his coverall pocket nervously. He was just closing up shop for the evening at the mechanics place he worked, Extra Mile Car Shop. “How can I, um, help you?”

“You can get me my boss’s money,” he said darkly.

“I thought I had a few more days,” he said quickly.

“Boss is getting a bit impatient considering he was generous enough to give you one extension already. He doesn’t normally do that and I can’t help but feel you might be taking advantage of him being in a good mood that day.”

“What? No, no no nooo…I’m just working to get it all together, really,” Ryker laughed.

“Playing online poker with what money you got?”

Ryker blanched a bit. “You…know about that?”

“What do you think, HarepinTurn227?”

He swallowed. “Oh, well, I just…thought I could make it faster doing that.”

“That thinking is what got you in trouble in the first place. If you don’t have the money today, then interest goes up to 40%.”

“What?!” he gasped. “I-you can’t do that! That’s robbery!”

Ryker gasped as Mr. Powell woged, his hair disappearing, his skin turning a green dark enough it was almost black, and his eyes large and wild with that scar still wrapping over one. What was most terrifying was his face though, as his mouth and nose elongated and enlarged and hardened into a sharp beak like structure that would be able to slice through his skin and break his bones if he got near Ryker. Around his neck or elsewhere it could kill him. A rumbling, roaring growl came from Mr. Powell’s chest and up to his mouth as he opened his jaws.

Ryker gasped and then changed himself. Soft brown fur covered him now, his eyes wide and fearful. His lip was clefted now, with a cute button nose twitching in fear, and most noticeable a pair of long ears swaying from the top of his head. “Okay, okay! Bad choice of words, got it!” he said, his voice higher in panic. “I-I’m on top of it, really! I’m doing all the work I can do and I’m even doing some I shouldn’t be! But I don’t have it all yet!”

Mr. Powell snapped his mouth shut with a clack that made Ryker shudder and then woged back. “Whatever you got to do. 40% on top of the original loan, paid by the end of next week. That’s about 8,000.”

“Right, yes! I’ll have it. I got another job tonight, I’ll get more,” he said, woging back as well.

“Good. Because if you don’t have all if it, I get to choose what we take instead. Is it you lot that have the lucky feet?” he asked with a sharp smirk.

He swallowed. “N-no, that’s Wilahara…I’m a Langen Ohren…c-common mistake…”

“Eh, you look pretty much the same to me,” he said.

“That’s a bit insensitive—” Mr. Powell glared and Ryker shut his jaw shut almost as hard as the snapping turtle wesen could.

“One week.” He turned and stalked off back to an expensive looking car parked at the street.

Ryker glared after him, catching his breath from the scare. “Asshole…” He was able to ear the sound of man-powered wheels coming closer and quickly righted himself.

“Ryker? We good?” a voice asked from the shop’s main door to the side of the garage doors he’d just finished closing.

“Yeah, we’re good, I got the garages closed.”

“And locked?”

“Yes,” he sighed. He turned as his friend and boss, Sherwin, wheeled his chair down the ramp at the main door. He was black with nice dread locks pinned back, with a broad nose and large eyes that seemed to see more than he let on. But he didn’t say anything. “Alright. Damon will be here to open in the morning but be here by 9.”

“Right, will do. Um, so…Sher…” he started, walking towards their cars. “I, uh…could use an advance maybe…”

Sherwin stopped rolling and looked up at him with a suspicious narrowing of his eyes. “Have you been gambling again? You know what I said if you want to keep this job—”

“No, I haven’t,” he said quickly. “I just, um, ran into a little home expense. My fridge needs to be repaired.”

Sherwin didn’t look convinced and sighed. “Ryker, I’m already giving you a job, I feel like I’ve done a lot for you.”

“No, yeah, you have,” he said. “But I mean, I know cars, it’s not like it’s all bad.”

“Yeah, you know cars and not much else,” he said, smiling teasingly.

Ryker smiled back. “I mean, you’re not wrong…”

Sherwin sighed as he got to his car, which was a well maintained El Dorado he had set up to be handicap accessible. “Look…the shop is doing okay, but I’m not in a position to give advances. I would just try to pick up some more work at the shop and we’ll go from there, okay?”

“Yeah…okay, got it,” he said, smiling. “Sorry, just…little stressed.”

“I get it, man,” he said, pulling himself up into the driver’s seat.

“Here, let me help with your chair,” he said, kneeling to take the wheels off and hand them to him to put in the back, then his seat.

“Thanks man…I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you…” Ryker said, sighing and chewing his lip. He watched Sherwin drive off before heading back to the shop to open one bay back up.

\----------------------------------

Sloane stepped back and around as Trubel brought the padded bat in a wide arch to try and hit her. When she moved to correct her course, Sloane grabbed the bat, knocked her hand hard enough to let go, then brought it around to tap her shoulder. “And down. Don’t do big moves if you don’t have a perfect opening, it expends too much time and energy.”

Trubel huffed, looking put out. “How do you keep doing that?”

“She’s annoyingly good at it, huh?” Nick asked with a smile from the sidelines. He’d already sparred with Sloane and Trubel a couple of times that day and both ladies were formidable opponents. He’d just barely been able to beat Trubel, and he’d gotten the upper hand with Sloane for a while before she managed to get around behind him and put him in a hold.

“And you too will be annoyingly good at it with more training,” she smiled.

“It’s getting late though,” Nick sighed, standing. “We should probably head home if we’re getting ready for tonight.”

“Ooh, yeah,” Sloane said, looking at her phone. “I gotta clean up. We’ll pick up again day after tomorrow,” Sloane said.

“I’m fine with that. I’ve never actually like trained like this before, I’m kind of sore…” Trubel said, stretching.

“There’s a few ways around that we can go over too,” she said, grabbing their stuff and heading up to where their cars were.

“So, this thing you guys are doing is a…what did they call it?” Trubel said again.

“Joint Bachelorian celebration,” Sloane said, somewhat amused. “Rosalee was worried her sister would get her a stripper as a joke for her if it was just girls.”

“And Monroe isn’t one for the usual bachelor party shenanigans,” Nick added. “So they decided the easiest thing would be a joint party with everyone to celebrate. Kind of like an engagement party when they’ve already planned most of the wedding.”

“To quote Monroe, “I don’t need a last hurrah, I’m happily saying goodbye to me bachelorhood and I think doing it with Rosalee there would be the most fun.””

“That’s…kind of sweet actually,” Trubel said.

“Yeah. We did plan most of this, with their input. There’s this history museum also having a wine tasting to go along with an exhibit about alcohol around the world.”

“Sounds…fun. But I mean, what am I going to do?”

“You have free reign of the house.” Sloane paused and reached into her pocket. “Speaking of which, I had this made earlier.” She handed her a key with a smile. Trubel was surprised but took it.

“…Thank you,” she said honestly. “So I can just…hang out at home?”

“I could give you homework,” Sloane said with a teasing smile. “An essay maybe? Choose a wesen and write a paper based on as much info as you can find?”

“Pass,” Trubel said, though she had a slight smile. “Just…Been a while since anyone trusted me on my own in their house…You took me to work with you the last couple of days still.”

“Had to sell the ride along thing,” she said. She put the equipment back in her car and turned. “Do I need to worry about you being alone?”

“No, I’m not planning on hunting or anything, I promise,” she said quickly. “Or anything else, not really a house party person. I just…was surprised.”

She smiled a bit and Nick did too. “We trust you, Trubel,” he said.

She had an odd look on her face before nodding. Granted, they were still learning about her and each other and all of that, but Trubel wasn’t bad he knew. She’d just had to live rough. It reminded him of Sloane in a lot of ways.

They all headed to their respective homes. Nick immediately started getting ready with Juliette for a night on the town. He wore a navy suite he usually wore to court, glad he had it cleaned recently, with a blue pinstripe shirt and black/white/navy diamond patterned tie.

“Looking good,” Juliette said. He turned and smiled brightly when he saw her in an emerald green cocktail dress that highlighted her red hair and hazel eyes. It was a wrap design that hugged her curves well but was still modest with it’s high neck-line and three quarter sleeves. Classy and elegant.

“Not as good as you,” he said.

Juliette smiled and pulled on her black kitten heels—something a bit easier to be walking in. “Looks like we’re doing good on time.”

“Yeah. Our reservation at Rue des Lumieres is at 7, and the museum’s event starts at 8, we’re picking up Sloane and Hank on the way so we gotta leave by about 6:30…”

“You don’t have to worry so much,” she said, chuckling.

“I just want tonight to go well,” he sighed. “No cases, no wesen, just…a nice dinner out with our friends, then a nice museum visit and all just celebrating Monroe and Rosalee.”

“It’s not too much to ask, I know,” she agreed at the unspoken complaint, walking over and fixing his pocket square. “What about Trubel?”

“Home alone.”

“That’s very trusting of Sloane...”

“I think they’ve come to a kind of understanding,” Nick said with a touch of relief. “Kind of like how she did with the rest of us.”

“That’s good. It’s only been a week though.”

“Still, progress is progress.”

Juliette nodded and they headed down and out to the car. Nick got to Sloane’s easily enough despite late afternoon traffic. “I’ll go see if she’s ready but we gotta leave pretty quick.”

“I’ll wait here then,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Let Hank know we’re on our way.”

He nodded and headed to the door, knocking. There was a pause before Trubel opened it. “Hey Nick. She’s almost ready.”

“Great. Looking forward to a night on your own?”

“Eh…I had plenty of those to be honest,” she shrugged. “But it’ll be nice to I guess have some me time in a house, with stuff to watch again I guess.”

“Is that Nick?” Sloane called from her bedroom.

“Yeah!”

“You ready?”

“Yeah, just a sec.” She stepped out and Nick actually froze. He’d always seen Sloane in jeans and shirts and jackets. Simple, straightforward, easy to fight and get messy in. He’d never seen her put that much effort into clothes or make-up. Tonight though, she was wearing a teal colored dress that had shimmery-silver lace appliques across the faux wrap top and a flowy skirt that was like handkercheifs of lace and material. She had on silver heals and was just finishing putting in simple silver earrings. Despite her hair being a bob down to her shoulders she managed to pull it back somehow in a crisscross pattern that was elegant and refined and it gave her a whole new look. Her make-up was a bit more than usual as well, with eyeshadow and lipstick and it was odd to realize—not that he didn’t realize before of course—that Sloane was _attractive_. The sort that could definitely pull attention if she so wished. She looked at him and he was struck by how green her eyes were too. “…What?”

“What?”

“You’re staring,” she said, quirking her brow.

“I-uh…sorry, just…never seen you all dressed up,” he said honestly.

She looked down at her dress and then shrugged. “I guess you haven’t, true. Black didn’t seem appropriate so I got this the other day.

“Looks good,” he nodded, his brain coming back to him. “I wasn’t sure you’d be comfortable coming unarmed in a dress somewhere,” he teased.

Sloane smirked, grabbing a purse—also different considering she usually put things in her jacket, but it was a clutch just big enough for her wallet and phone. “Who says I’m unarmed?”

“…Seriously? Where?” he said, half disapproving and half amused.

“I don’t think Juliette would like me to show you.” He blushed at that and she just grinned before turning to Trubel. “I left you some money for take out.”

“You didn’t have to,” Trubel said. “I have money.”

“Yeah, but save that up for other stuff. I got a job, you don’t,” she said. “Think of it as house-sitting compensation.”

“…Okay. Thanks,” she said. Her pride made her blush but she seemed happy.

“I’ll text you when I’m heading back.”

“Text?” Nick asked. He didn’t remember Trubel having a phone.

“We worked out getting her on my public phone plan so she’d have one,” Sloane said. Trubel pulled out a basic but nice smart phone with an honest smile. “She’s going to be paying me for that by keeping the house clean.”

“Gives me something to do at least when I’m not training,” she sighed, the smile turning a bit strained.

Sloane rolled her eyes. “I programmed the rest of your numbers into hers already.”

“Oh, that’s good,” he nodded, smiling a bit at Trubel. “Send me one later so I know what your number is.”

“Right. But shouldn’t you get going?” Trubel said, waking the phone up to show him the time.

“Ah, yeah, we need to go,” he said. Sloane nodded waving to Trubel as they headed to the car.

“Have a nice night,” she said, waving back. Climbing in, Sloane reached into her purse and handed Nick a small bag. “The eyedrops came today.”

“Really?” He took the bag, opening it to see two small bottles. “Great!”

“Yeah. Remember though, don’t overdo it.”

“These are those special eyedrops that suppress Grimm power, right?” Juliette asked.

“Yeah. We got enough for the wedding and that’s all we should use for now. I had to contact the Library in Seattle for these…”

“You don’t sound happy,” Nick noted.

Sloane sighed. “I was hoping Gallin could get them, but since she’s no longer an official librarian she’s limited in what she can do. Having to tell them where I am, even a PO Box that I got, sends up a red flag…”

“…You’re still worried someone will come visit you?”

“Visit would be the nice word,” Sloane said. Shaking her head she smiled. “But we’ll burn that bridge when we cross it.”

“Pretty sure that’s not the saying,” Juliette said.

“It is for me.”

\-----------------

“2000?! That can’t be right!” a customer said loudly. Ryker flinched but thankfully his coworkers and Sherwin weren’t around. Strictly speaking he shouldn’t be either, but he’d agreed to meet someone after hours. “It’s just a dent!”

“It’s a big dent in the front of your car. There was a lot more damage underneath. I’ll need to order parts, and then there’s time and all that to consider.” It was mostly true, though he was inflating the price for time a bit more than Sherwin would approve.

“I think I want a second opinion,” the man grumbled. Mr. Wurstner, or “Bud” as his name patch said on his own coveralls, was a very nervous man and tended to ramble and go over information repeatedly when he was nervous. Which again seemed to be most of the time.

Ryker swallowed. “Look, I understand it’s not convenient, but I’ve got everything listed down already, I can get started with what I can do right away and get the parts ASAP. It should be maybe four days tops, and that includes expedited shipping.” Okay, that was a lie, the parts shop was here in Portland. But he was banking on Bud not knowing that.

He frowned, tapping his foot. “Well…I don’t know…I mean, I don’t want to involve my insurance because I already got rearended and they’ll up my rates, but maybe it would be cheaper to just call them…and deal with my wife knowing I went through the drive thru…I could come back tomorrow?”

“I could give you a discount,” Ryker tried quickly. “I mean, I understand as a working guy, it’s not easy to get out and find someone to do the job during the day, so that’s why we offer some services after hours. I could maybe go for about 1700? I mean, it’s that or make time somewhere else on their schedule, and your insurance…”

“…Fine,” he sighed. “Get it started.”

“Right!” He pulled out a clipboard with their normal release on it. “Do you have a ride? I’m afraid we don’t have rentals…”

“Yeah, I got one…”

“Great! Oh, and here.” He pulled out a card and handed it to him. “That’s my direct number, you can call me directly for updates. That’ll be the best way to do it because we’re all kind of doing our own work right now. I’m the only one working after our normal hours—with my boss’s permission.” Not.

“Okay, okay…I guess I’ll tell her it was just a little scrape.” He finished filling out the form and then called his wife to come get him. Once he was out the door, Ryker took the form and put it through the shredder. This wasn’t going to be going on Sherwin’s books.

Bud sighed as he waited for his wife to come, feeling like something wasn’t right. He really should’ve known better and it was already nagging at him that he made a mistake, but now he felt trapped! Hopefully things would be better by the morning…

\---------------------

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you do that with your hair?” Juliette asked Sloane.

“Youtube, mirrors, a bunch of bobbypins and a lot of patience,” she said with a smile. “I’ve done it a couple of times before though.”

“I’m impressed,” Juliette said, smiling back. “You don’t drink though?” They were at the museum, looking through historical finds and stories and Monroe and Rosalee were like kids in a candy store. Sloane had to admit it was more interesting than she’d thought it’d be, and the wine was pretty good. There was also other parts of the museum and Nick and Hank rather enjoyed a military exhibit. Juliette was finding it all interesting and enjoying just mingling about for a normal evening. She’d only had a glass of rose however.

“Not much. I figure someone should stay sober and I don’t really like being drunk.”

“More for us,” DeEtta said, toasting her. She was wearing a shapely sea-foam green dress. Sloane had never met Rosalee’s sister before but she wasn’t shy and was fine with the wine if not so interested in the museum. She seemed to like Hank as well, who was doing his best be polite but not encourage her. That didn’t stop her from sticking noticeably close to him.

“Probably the smart move,” Hank said. He was also nicely dressed in a charcoal grey suit with a yellow tie.

Monroe, in a grey suit with a blue shirt and tie, smiled. “I gotta say, nothing beats the old ways of making stuff. New is faster but I like the flavor of the old.”

“It’s interesting how much it reminds me of the shop and mixing things too,” Rosalee agreed. She was in a black dress with red roses printed across it.

“Thinking about making some beer or wine?” Juliette asked.

“Ahhh, I don’t think I’m quite ready for that. I mean, with all the microbreweries already in Portland?” she chuckled. “I’d have to compete with the hipsters and the serious folks and that could get ugly.”

“I don’t know. At the very least, maybe some anniversary we can go to wine country and give it a try,” Monroe said.

“Aw, already talking about anniversaries,” Rosalee said, kissing him gently. He grinned at the kiss and the others all smiled, though DeEtta rolled her eyes a little. Nick glanced at Juliette, but then away. They still had not talked about the proposal and honestly, he was scared to bring it up. They’d finally gotten back on track as far as their relationship and he didn’t want to tip whatever balance they’d finally struck crashing down again. But it was hard not to feel a little bitter seeing Monroe and Rosalee. He hated that feeling and tried to push it down.

“I think I’m gonna get some water, anyone else want some?”

“I’ll take some,” Hank said. “Wine gives me a hangover if I’m not careful.”

“Pretty sure that’s most alcohol,” Nick said. “But same, I should sober up for the ride home.”

“I’m good,” Rosalee said, Monroe and Juliette also shaking their heads.

“I’ll take some,” DeEtta said. “Can you carry all that?”

Sloane nodded and moved from their group to the bar, handing her glass to the bartender and then taking out a twenty for the overpriced water. The wine was cheaper since it was a tasting. “And four waters please.”

“Hello there,” a voice that was trying very hard to be smooth said next to her. She glanced over to see a man in a suit leaning against the bar with a seductive smile that made her cringe. “I didn’t know they let the art walk around in this museum.”

She blinked before gesturing to the building around them with an unimpressed look. Normally she wouldn’t even engage but it was just so bad she had to shoot him. “This is a history museum.”

He blushed and then laughed. “Ah, right…Sorry, just thought that might be a good way to start a conversation with a girl I’ve been admiring all night.”

“Well, you tried.”

He looked put out by the bored tone but then smiled again. “Can I get you a refill?”

“Nope, got it covered.” She accepted the bottles of water from the bartender, turning to head off.

“Hey now, I’m just trying to be friendly,” he said, getting a little annoyed and stepping in front of her.

“Pretty sure an opener like that is not just looking make friends, and I’m not interested.”

“Well, let me help carry all that? Why so much water?” He said, reaching for the water.

“They’re for my friends,” she said, taking a step to the side to go around him.

“Ah yeah, the group right? They seem all paired up but you so…maybe you could use some company?

“So nothing,” she said, losing patience. “I have company.”

He glared a bit now, grabbing her arm speaking lowly but roughly. “You don’t have to be such a bitch! Maybe that’s why you’re alone.”

Sloane felt a pang of something and glared. Her arms were full of water so she couldn’t exactly do much. Unless she shoved one of the bottles down his--

“Now you see, you don’t listen,” Nick said, coming up behind him and setting a hand on his shoulder. “She’s not alone. She’s here with us.”

“And if you don’t take your hand off of her,” Hank added, setting a hand on his other shoulder. “We’ll be the ones keeping you company for a while till security comes and gets you.”

“Or we could be evil and let the girls shred you,” Monroe added. Rosalee, Juliette and DeEtta all looked ready to take him down like a pride of lionesses.

He paused but then shrugged out of their hands with a click of his tongue and let go to walk off.

“Jeez,” DeEtta said, glaring. “Why are guys like that? No offense to you guys, of course.”

“No, yeah,” Hank sighed, taking a water from her and passing them around. “There’s at least one predatory asshole at every gathering.”

“And bus, and supermarket, and gym, and sidewalk home,” DeEtta listed off. “Like, I love men, but they are _awful_—”

“Okay, I think you need that water now,” Rosalee said, opening the last bottle and handing it to her sister.

“You okay?” Nick asked Sloane a little more quietly.

She smiled, sipping her own water. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Though I appreciate the backup.” Still, something about his comment had stung. Was she upset being “alone”? DeEtta and Hank were single, even if DeEtta had been hitting on him. Being alone was fine, it’s what she preferred. It was probably just annoyance that he was singling her out like a wounded animal in the heard.

They enjoyed the exhibits for a while longer before deciding around midnight to head home. When she came in the TV was on, showing some old B horror movies on one channel. When she came closer she saw an empty Pizza box on the coffee table, some sodas, and Trubel curled up on the couch asleep in the old shirt and sweats she used for pajamas. Smiling a little at how relaxed she looked, Sloane draped the throw on her couch over her to let her keep sleeping. She then turned off the TV and headed to go wash up and go to bed. She wasn’t alone. Romance wasn’t something she needed, she knew that.

\---------------------

It was a couple of days later that Sloane was heading home when she was surprised to see someone pacing in front of her house. “Bud?”

“Sloane!” He said, smiling a bit nervously. “Hey, um…sorry to show up all of a sudden. But I need…or at least I was hoping maybe you could help me.”

Sloane was a bit surprised. Bud was alright in her book, but they’d only see each other every few weeks for a little help either with a case or a project. He’d gotten more comfortable with her than when she first arrived, but he usually still went to Nick with problems. “Okay…what’s wrong?”

“Well, Rosalee mentioned you knew a bit about cars?”

That was a further surprise, but she nodded. “Yeah, I do. Having car trouble?”

“Kind of. I…had a little fender bender a few days ago. Nothing major, I just um…hit something.”

“Something…alive?” she asked carefully. “Do we need a shovel?”

“No! No no no, nothing like that,” he said, laughing nervously. “I hit a concrete pylon, kind of crunched part of my front bumper and headlight.”

“Ah. Body work isn’t my strong suit, I know more about mechanical issues,” Sloane said, actually a little disappointed. Working on a car sounded like a nice change of pace.

“That’s fine, it’s really more about the body shop I took it too. I think they’re trying to fleece me!”

“Fleece you? Like…overcharge?”

“Yes! I should’ve known, really—it was open way to late at night and the guy was acting weird but I really didn’t want to go through my insurance because I already had two other minor accidents this year—neither were my fault mind you—and my rates would go up and then my wife would get angry with me because of how it happened…”

“How did it happen?” she asked, managing to pick up a hint of shame despite how fast he was talking.

“Hey, I know you might be thinking bad things, but don’t,” he said, a bit more firmly. “The only thing I cheated on was my diet going through a drive thru. The pylon was too close to where the drive through turns! It happens all the time, they even admitted it, but can’t get rid of it. But if my wife finds out I went and got a bacon burger when I’m supposed to be watching my cholesterol, she’ll have my head. I mean, figuratively speaking. Uh, don’t tell her, please, she thinks I got sideswiped.”

Sloane wasn’t even sure she met Bud’s wife but nodded. “Right…So you want me to…?”

“I asked around and this mechanic has been doing this to a lot of people!”

“Bud, I can’t really enforce a different price on something, it’s not against the law to set his own prices…” she sighed.

“I kind of figured, but that’s not what I was hoping. I also heard, y’see, that he’s a wesen. A Langen Ohren.”

“A…rabbit?” she asked, searching her brain for “Long Ears” in what she remembered from her books.

“No, a hare! I mean, there’s Willahara, but they’re the rabbits and rabbits and hares are different despite their looks so I don’t know what happened with the naming there—”

“We’re off topic,” Sloane said quickly, holding up a hand. “So he’s a wesen.”

“Yeah. So I was hoping, maybe you could, um…just kind of inquire why he’s doing this?”

Sloane stared at him and tilted her head a bit. “You want me to intimidate him.”

“Uh, well…a bit?” he said hesitantly. “look, he said at first it would be 2000, then went down to 1700, but he called me and said it would be 3400! He keeps changing things and I’m just…I dug myself in, I know, but that’s a lot for me right now…”

Sloane relented a bit and sighed. “And you want me because I know cars?”

“Well, and because you’re a little better at intimidating than Nick I think…” he said with a smile. “I mean, he’s scary when he wants to be, but you know how to give off that Grimm aura without even trying.”

Sloane actually didn’t mind that, nodding a bit. “Fair enough.”

“So do you mind?” he asked hopefully.

Sloane sighed, thinking it all over. On the one hand, she wasn’t sure on the ethics of this—and that was a problem mainly because she was a police detective and didn’t want this coming back to bite her. “Local Cop leans on mechanic regarding prices,” could go a lot of different directions. But then again, she was being asked to go as a Grimm, not a cop, so as long as he didn’t know her day job…

“Okay, I can talk to him,” she finally said.

“Great! I’m pretty sure he’ll be there about 6, after they normally should be closed—he said he’s been doing some extended times for people who work late and you know, I don’t find anything about that anywhere when I got home so I should’ve known it was a scam then and gotten my car back but—”

“Bud, calm down,” Sloane said, holding her hands up. “I’ll talk to him, see what’s going on, and make sure he understands this needs to be fair.”

“Right…okay, yeah,” He nodded. “Fair is all I ask. Although if he is trying to scam me, a discount wouldn’t hurt to make things up!”

She smiled in amusement. “I’ll be sure to let him know and call you after I see him.”

Bud smiled. “Thanks, I appreciate it. Here, this is his address and everything I got,” he said, handing her a piece of paper he grabbed from his pocket. “Oh, uh, do you want to take Nick? Maybe play good Grimm, bad Grimm?”

“He’s…a bit busy right now.” He was currently with Trubel, going over some information in the trailer as part of training for both of them. Sloane had been planning to join them but she could take a detour.

“Right, of course. I mean, I still think you’ll do the best.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling still.

“Well, I gotta get home—I’m borrowing my wife’s car. Call me after you talk to him.”

“I will,” she said, waving as he headed for the sedan parked on the street.

Sighing, she watched Bud drive off and pulled out her phone and dialed Nick’s number as she headed inside. “Hey Sloane. On your way?”

“Kind of. I’m picking up my notes at home, but Bud was waiting for me.”

“Bud? Why?”

“Apparently he wants me to talk to someone for him.”

“Is it a big problem?” Nick asked. He was remembering the issue with the bridge and the trolls Bud asked for his help with.

“No, not really,” she sighed, picking a book from her desk. Not her scrap book, but another one with notes in it. “Someone giving him a hard time because of his car or whatever. Says he thinks he’s wesen and just wants me to talk to him about fair trade practices.”

“And you’re going to do it.”

“It’s on the way to the trailer park I think. Figure I can do him a solid and check into it. It does sound like this body shop guy is upping the price a lot.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“I can be nice,” she said primly.

Nick chuckled. “Well, just let us know when you’re on the way over. I was thinking I’d grab us some food if we want to stick around for a while.”

“Will do. How is study time going?”

“Not too bad. I think Trubel is doing pretty well.”

“There’s some really freaky wesen out there!” Trubel called.

Sloane chuckled. “Tell her I’ll see about getting some of those Filipino wesen books and she’ll see what freaky is. Talk to you later.”

“Later,” Nick said, hanging up. She hanged up as well and then paused when she saw a text from Kelly on her private phone. They’d worked out a website to text through the deeper part of the web that should be safe—but right now just through Sloane who knew how to cover her tracks if needed. Opening it, she smiled a tiny bit.

Kelly: _Diana is doing well. Her development is a bit different from what I remember of babies. Trying to figure out how to baby proof for a mini-hexenbeast._

Sloane typed out her reply. _I don’t think that’s covered in the parenting books so good luck._

Setting the phone back in her pocket, she headed back to her car after locking up. The notebook went into the center console out of habit and she started heading towards the other side of town.

The car shop looked closed when she pulled up and she wondered if Bud was sure someone would be there. The schedule said it was open from 7 to 5 and it was already nearly 6. But then as she pulled in, she saw one bay door was slightly open. Getting out, she walked over and heard music inside, as well as the sound of some kind of work being done. The shuttered door wasn’t moving from it’s position about a foot off the ground so she sighed and pounded on it with her fist. The sound of work paused and she knocked again, the rumbling of the medal sound a bit like thunder. Footsteps were coming closer, she could hear them over the music.

“Who’s there?” a man asked through the door, sounding nervous.

“My name’s Sloane. I’m here to talk to you about some work your doing for a friend of mine,” Sloane said.

There was a pause before the door lifted mechanically from a switch on the side. Sloane arched her brow at the wrench in his hand and couldn’t help but think he was holding it like a weapon. “Uh, hey…so you don’t need a repair?”

“No,” she said, moving into the garage. “I’m here about Bud Wurstern’s car.”

“Ah, the work truck,” he said, relaxing a little. “I told him, the damage was more than it looked like on the surface—”

“Where is it?” Sloane asked, looking around.

“Uh…it’s offsite. For painting.”

She paused and then pointed. “You have a painting room over there I believe,” she said, pointing to what was very obviously a room with a paint spraying machine. “Looks recently used too.”

“What, are you a detective?” he asked defensively.

Sloane turned, giving him a narrowed look. “I’m a concerned friend. I want to look over his car and I want you to point out to me what “further damage” there is. And then I want to discuss this with you and the owner of this place.”

“I-I’m the owner,” he said.

“…Yeah, if you’re going to tell a lie like that, I’d practice first,” Sloane said. “Because first of all, owners don’t stutter. Second of all, the internet exists and I already know the owner’s name is Sherwin Costello, and you are Ryker Dowling who dealt with Bud personally.”

“And how do you know that?”

“You have a name tag,” she tapped her chest where it matched on the coveralls, his patch that said ‘Ryker’.

Ryker had the decency to blush but got defensive. “W-well, you’re not the customer, so I can’t just show you the car and do all that!”

“I’ll get Bud on the phone and get his permission, as well as Mr. Costello.”

“I, um…”

Sloane tilted her head. “…He doesn’t know you’re doing this, does he?” Ryker swallowed. “So what, you’re scamming some customers on the side behind your boss’s back?”

“I’m not scamming people!”

Sloane advanced on him, her voice hard. She was losing her patience with this fidgety man. “Then you should have no problem providing an itemized receipt for everything you’ve had to do and it’s cost right now.”

Ryker backed up and then woged into his long-eared form. He gasped and dropped the wrench with an echoing clang. “G-Grimm!”

“Yep,” she said, smiling a little. She got her tow under the wrench and managed to get it up into her hand expertly, twirling it like she would a weapon with a flourish.

“I-but-”

“I’m a Grimm and a friend of Bud’s. You are not my friend. Do you want to stay on my good side?” She tapped the wrench in her hand.

“Y-yes!”

“Have you fixed his truck?”

“N…not completely…”

“Then I want you to do so, docaument everything, and give him a _fair_ price. I’m not going to push for more than that but maybe you could give it a nice detailing wash too?”

“Sure, yeah, I-I can do that,” he swallowed.

“Good.” She set the wrench under her arm and pulled out her small notebook she used for cases, writing down her number. “Do that, get it to him by Monday, and you won’t have to see me again. If there is a problem, call me.” She offered the wrench to him with the paper and he gingerly took them from her grasp. “Have a nice weekend.” She turned and headed out to her car. Ryker felt his legs shaking. She seemed so normal, but he knew like he knew the sun would rise and the wrench would fall to the floor again if he let go that she could kill him easily. He managed to get over to the bench nearby and sit, putting his head in his hands. He wasn’t sure how long he was there but it was dark by the time he heard a car pull up.

“Mr. Dowling?”

He froze and turned his eyes up to see Mr. Powell again. “You got the money?”

“I…N-no…”

He narrowed his eyes and his nostrils flared. “Well…then it’s time we took a drive.”

“Wait-” He yelped as Mr. Powell hauled him to his feet and pushed him stumbling outside to the waiting luxury car. “I need to lock up!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll have someone watch things here. Get in the car.”

That honestly made Ryker worry more but he didn’t want to argue further and see what would happen. He realized he was still holding the Grimm’s business card and put it into his jumpsuit pocket on the way to the car. Climbing in, he buckled in with shaking hands that wouldn’t quite get the buckle in until the fifth try. Mr. Powell climbed in with him and the other man up front in the driver’s seat headed off once he was ready. Ryker jittered his foot nervously, trying to think what to do. Powell looked annoyed at the movement but just sighed.

It was a bit of a drive but they finally pulled up to a restaurant in a nicer part of town. Powell got out and opened Ryker’s door, pulling him out by his coveralls when he hesitated and pushed him towards the alley that led around back. Once at the door he knocked and it was opened by another man in a suit, looking at Ryker with a pitying gaze. He swallowed again and followed them inside and to a side room that should be an office for the restaurant but was a bit bigger than what some might expect. A man was sitting at the desk there, going over some books. He was older with graying hair and a ruddy complexion and a little extra weight, but sharp eyes that looked like they were ready size you up and bring you down. He smiled when Ryker was brought in.

“Hello, Ryker. If you’re here, then you must be about to give me some disappointing news,” he said lightly, marking his place and closing the book. It was a ledger of some kind, green unlike some of the brown ones on the shelves. Everything was organized neatly on the desk to the point Ryker was scared to touch anything with his dirty hands.

“Well, um…I’ve got _some_ of the money, Mr. Demitro…” he said slowly, trying to breath.

“How much is some?”

“A-About 6,500?”

He hummed and shook his head. “Not enough then. I’ll take that, but I’m going to have to see what else we can do to make up that difference.” He pulled out a folder and opened it up. “Currently you work for a body shop, correct?”

“I…y-yes…”

“Owned by Sherwin Costello? Hmmm…that name sounds familiar…Arman, wasn’t he a promising stock car racer?”

“Yessir,” Powell nodded. “He and Mr. Dowling here were on a semi-pro team. Then an accident paralyzed Costello from the waist down and their team disbanded.”

“You…do your research,” Ryker said, uncomfortable now, plucking nervously at his coveralls.

“I enjoy racing. That’s how we make some of our money on the side. It’s got it’s roots in a lot of what we do here.”

“Well…I could help out with a race?” he offered.

“Mmm, I don’t have clients work for me that way. Especially given your employment record—this will be your fifth job in less than 2 years. Not a good look.”

“I’m good at what I do,” he said defensively.

“Skill and work ethic are different things. Not everyone can be like myself and Arman and have both. Arman’s skills or more physical though.” Ryker swallowed and hunkered down at the implied warning as Mr. Powell nodded. “But, your connection there could be useful another way…maybe putting some parts through without raising suspicion. And some money.”

Ryker paled. “You mean money laundering? I…No, I-I can’t do that to Sherwin,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, smuggling too—”

“Such ugly words,” Mr. Demitro said with a frown. “But to me, “can’t”, is the ugliest. Maybe you don’t realize just how deep you are in this, Ryker. I make loans. This means I expect to be paid with interest. I’ve given you 6 months, and then an extension to 8—I’ve been more than generous. Now I’m giving you another way to repay us and you’re turning it down?”

“I…it’s not my business, he’ll figure out something is wrong…” he tried.

“Well, if he’s a good enough friend to give you a job I’m sure he would love to help.”

“B-but he’s not the only problem! There’s him and I got cars from people I gotta fix and now I gotta Grimm on my back! People are gonna get suspicious if I don’t get it done so if you give me more time-”

He sat up straighter at that. “Ryker, repeat that. A Grimm?” He looked at Mr. Powell, who shook his head as he hadn’t seen one at the shop.

“I…yeah. Th-there was a Grimm at the shop before he came.”

“I heard there was one in Portland,” Demitro said, thoughtfully. “What did he want?”

“It was a woman…she said I was scamming one of her friends and told me to be fair or she’d be back,” he finished, shivering.

“And were you? Scamming people?” he asked, amused.

“I-I had to make enough money to pay you back!”

“And you got all uppity about money laundering?” Powell said with a sneer. “Hypocrite.” Ryker ducked down, knowing he wasn’t wrong. It hurt him deep down to resort to it, but he’d been desperate.

Demitro just smiled, reclining in his seat and looking thoughtful. “…I think I may have another way you can pay me back now. You can even keep what money you have, that’s how generous I’ll be about this.”

Ryker was shocked, excited, but then wary. “H-how?”

Demitro’s smile didn’t make him feel any better.

\--------------------------

Sloane yawned as she and Trubel got to the house after studying all evening. Juliette had even joined them, picking up dinner on the way, and though Hank couldn’t join he expressed his envy of Nick being surrounded by beautiful women.

“Ready for bed?”

“Yeah…um…so, I know the games and sparring in stuff help with my reflexes and now I’m learning more about wesen in general…” Trubel started.

“But?”

“Well…when am I going to get some real weapons training?”

Sloane sighed, remembering Nick’s impatience, but just turned. “Something in particular you have in mind?”

“Well, I know you use your knife really well so that. And then maybe the crossbow and a gun?”

“Ah…Knife and Crossbow I can definitely do. Nick would maybe be better for the gun, I’m not a big fan…”

“Why?”

Sloane breathed in. “I made a big mistake with a gun once…killed someone innocent. I’m good at using a gun, my aim is good, but I prefer weapons that make me think and move and re-evaluate what I’m doing regularly. But they do come in handy so I don’t begrudge Nick or anyone else, including you, using them.”

Trubel was surprised but nodded. “Yeah, okay...”

“We’re not quite at the point where I want to spar with real blades either, but I should have some practice ones we can use. Next time we’re out at the training grounds we can give it a try.”

Trubel smiled a bit excited. “Awesome.”

She smiled and bid her goodnight, heading to get ready for bed.

In the morning she did her usual routine before heading to work, letting Trubel sleep in. No new cases came in so she was working notes and other paperwork for past cases most of the day with Nick and Hank. Towards the end of the day her phone rang with an unfamiliar number and she answered it. “Larson.”

“Um, hello, M-Ms. Larson. This is Ryker Dowling, from Extra Mile. We…talked, yesterday.”

Sloane arched her brow. “I remember…”

“Right. Um, you said to call you if there was a problem and, well…I got the car in and I’m going over it one more time and I just wanted to see if you wanted to check it out in person.”

“In person?”

“Yeah. I…Um, no offense but I don’t want to see you again, but I really don’t want to see you again if your or Mr. Wurstner has a problem so…I figure if I get your seal of approval, you’ll be less likely to um…have to visit me again later.”

“…I suppose that makes sense…” Sloane said slowly. “Today?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. I can go over everything with you.”

“Okay. I can be there around six.”

“Sounds great! I’ll have everything ready.” He hanged up without further ado and she frowned a bit.

“Everything okay?” Nick asked.

“…Yeah, I guess,” she said, still frowning at her phone.

“That’s convincing.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile and looked at him. “Remember that mechanic I told you Bud wanted me to talk to?”

“Yeah?”

“He called and wants me to look over the car before he calls Bud. Make sure it’s up to my standard so I don’t have to “visit” him again.”

“And…that doesn’t sit well with you? Normally I feel like you’d be insisting on that on your own.”

Sloane arched her brow. “Are you calling me controlling?”

“Ah…I just mean you have a way of doing things and you like everyone to be on the same page.”

“Nice save,” Hank whispered. Nick elbowed him.

Sloane smirked a little, not even that insulted it seems. “Can’t help it, I prefer to be in charge. But this guy is a Langen Ohren. He’s nervous and jumpy and they’re prone to running rather than fighting.”

“So calling you suddenly is surprising?” Hank guessed.

“A little. Even if he is trying to avoid the “Wrath of the Grimm”. He shouldn’t have any idea that I’m detective so that should be the only reason he’s afraid of me. Yet he’s still willingly inviting me over...doesn’t sit right in my gut.” She sighed but shrugged. “I might just be paranoid though.”

“Hey, paranoia in our line of work keeps us alive sometimes,” Nick said. “You want some back up?”

Sloane was a bit surprised. “You want to back me up throwing your Grimm weight around?”

He shrugged, smiling. “I’m a cop, but I’m not a boy scout like you keep saying.”

“I guess that’s true,” she said, smiling a bit. “But it’s really not necessary.”

“I want to,” he said.

She frowned a little. “Nick, I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I’m not saying you can’t,” he said, holding up his hands. “But even gentle animals attack when cornered. I’d feel better just knowing you had someone watching your back.”

She gave him a flat look before sighing and rolling her eyes. “Okay, fine. But let me handle it.”

“Okay. I don’t want to bring Trubel though,” he said, grimacing.

“Trying to set a good example despite bad habits,” Hank asked, amused.

“Do as we say, not as we do,” Sloane grinned. “Did you want to babysit me too?”

“Nah,” he said. “My only weight I got to throw around is my detective badge and I don’t think that will fly.”

“Yeah, trying to avoid that,” Sloane said, Nick nodding.

“Well, we make a good duo,” he said, holding up a fist. She smiled and bumped it with her own despite another eye roll.

When 5:30 rolled around they headed out in separate cars to Extra Mile. They got to the shop just before six and Sloane got out first to go over to his car. “You want to come in at the same time or hang back?”

Nick smiled and reclined his seat. “I’ll hang back, see how it’s done. I’m just here if the rabbit tries anything, right?”

Sloane rolled her eyes. “So much for being a duo.” Nick just smiled at the tease and watched her head over to the garage. He frowned though when he saw it was mostly closed up—that didn’t feel right. He knew she said he was scamming Bud, and probably others, by opening the shop after hours and not telling his boss. But the fact that it was deserted looking pinged his own paranoid senses.

Sloane wasn’t keen on it either but walked over and knocked on the door. “Dowling?” The door rolled up and she heard him from the inside.

“Hey, um…come on in?” his voice called.

She frowned and glanced around. It was dark inside and warning bells were going off in her head. As she stepped in, she didn’t see Dowling. “…Hello?” she said, glancing around slowly she heard something shift and before she could back out felt a sharp sting in her thigh. She reached down to feel something sticking out and pulled it out. In the dim light she saw it was a tranquilizer dart, like the kind used to hunt big game. “Shit!” She moved to get out of the garage but someone rushed her and grabbed her in a hold, and the garage door start closing. Grunting, she planted her feet on the ground and elbowed him hard in the side, then shoulder threw him when he loosened his grip. He was a big man and she almost went down with him but got up to try and get out of the garage again. She gasped as he grabbed her angle and she almost went down again. She saw him woge in the dim light, his amphibian face with its sharp beak and the low gurgling growl putting her on high alert.

_A Mandibula Trampa?!_ _What is that doing here?!_ She kicked out and got him in the face, getting her ankle free and up on her feet. The garage door had closed and it was even darker now. He got up as well, hissing at her like an angry snapping turtle and flexing his sharp beak. She knew that would snap her bones if she got too close, maybe cut something like her fingers clean off. Fighting at a distance was the best idea, but she only had her knife with her. When he moved for her again, she glanced around and grabbed a wrench from a tool chest nearby, throwing it at him. He managed to dodge and she then grabbed the whole box and threw it like Donkey Kong throwing a barrel at his face, making him reel.

Nick meanwhile had frowned when the door closed again. Getting out of the car, he walked over to the door. “Sloane?” He frowned more and then focused his hearing. When he heard a crash and some yelling he jumped into action, looking for a way in. He tried pulling up on the shutter door but it wouldn’t budge. “Sloane!”

“Nick!” She yelled back. She then gasped when he threw the tool chest back at her . She managed to get out of the way, the strike hitting and denting the shutter door behind her. “I’ve got at least two really hostile wesen in here! And I they hit me with a dart of something!”

“Shut up!” the big man yelled, moving for her. “Get whoever that is!”

Nick gaped and then looked up when he heard someone rushing for the door. Another man came through the door and moved for him, but Nick was ready. When he tried to punch him he ducked and then brought his own hand up into his chin. His head snapped back and he stumbled but then growled and woged into a klaustreich. His eyes widened then. “We have another Grimm!” he yelled.

“What?” Powell said, distracted a moment. Sloane used that opportunity to roundhouse kick him across the face. To his credit he didn’t go down but he growled and grabbed her up, slamming her down like a wrestler and knocking the wind out of her. Being down, she could feel her limbs starting to get heavy. _This is something that acts much faster than a normal drug,_ she thought, trying to get back up.

Nick meanwhile was trading blows with the klaustreich, finally striking him hard enough in the face to get him down. He rushed for the door to the auto-shop’s main building, then to the office door that was open and the door to the garage area. He saw a large man looming over Sloane who was prone on the ground.

“Just stay down, sweetheart. You’ll need that fight in you later.” She glared, grabbing the wrench she was reaching for and bringing it up to smash into his knee. He howled in pain and moved away. “You bitch!” He woged, moving to haul her up and bite through her neck. Nick rushed over and kicked the back of his knee, making him yell and buckle.

Nick then felt a sharp prick and gasped, cursing and pulling a dart from his shoulder. “Shit!”

“That’s what I said,” Sloane said, slurring her words slightly from her spot on the ground. Nick was alarmed she was down and knelt by her while the large man was cradling his leg.

“Sloane?”

“Hey…I…am not gonna be getting up for a bit…this stuffs strong…” she said, trying hard to focus through the room spinning. She should be more worried but her brain wasn’t working.

“It should be,” another voice said. “It’s my own recipe.” A sharfbleike woman looked down at them from a perch on a truck up in the air on one of the risers. She woged back to a woman with brown hair and dark skin, smiling as she tipped her rifle down and away. “We’re a bit pressed for time so you got an extra strong dose, handsome. You should survive I think.”

“Unlike your friend,” the big man said, getting up. He was limping noticeably.

“Hey now, Powell, this could be good,” the woman said. “Demetrio wanted one Grimm—”

“And he’ll get at least one after I break her neck,” he said, moving towards her. Nick managed to pull a boneless Sloane close to him. He cursed at not having grabbed his gun.

“Powell, knock it off,” the woman said again. “Do you think he’d be happy knowing you could’ve brought in two for his little event and killed one because she managed to get you?”

“She shattered my knee, Marta!” he said.

“And what do you think Demetrio will do if you kill his next money maker?”

He glared, nostrils flaring. Nick was debating how fast he could army carry Sloane out the door when he felt his stomach dip and the room start spinning.

“Oh, looks like it’s taking effect,” she said with a smile. “Ryker, get me down from here.”

“R-Right…” There was a switch thrown and the truck came down from the lift. Marta jumped down part of the way as Nick fell over, unable to stay sitting up. He was still holding on to Sloane as tight as he could, but Sloane was out like a light now.

“Sleep well, Grimms. You’ll need it.”

\-----------------

Trubel frowned as she looked at the time on her phone. Sloane had said she had a quick errand after work in a text but she’d grab food on the way home for them. It was now going on 8PM and she hadn’t heard anything even when she texted for an update. Sighing, she went through the numbers programmed into her phone and tried Nick. It rang with no answer and she growled in frustration. Even though she was still leery, she called Rosalee.

“Trubel?”

“Hey…you knew it was me?”

“Sloane made sure I had your name and number in my phone too,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Uh…I was wondering if Sloane was with you actually.”

Rosalee paused in mixing the salad for dinner and frowned. “No, I haven’t seen her in person for the last couple of days actually…”

“Has she called you?”

“No, we texted earlier but not since this morning…why?”

Trubel hesitated but sighed. “She was going to run an errand and grab dinner on the way home, but she hasn’t called or answered my texts…I tried Nick too and he didn’t pick up.”

Rosalee made a concerned hum. “Just a sec,” she said, turning from the phone but Trubel could still hear her. “Monroe? Have you talked to Nick or Sloane today?”

“Today?” he asked. “Uh, no. I haven’t. Why?”

Rosalee huffed and went back to the phone. “Do you know what the errand was?”

“No, she didn’t specify…”

“Okay. I’m going to call Hank, he might know. I’ll call you back and update you, alright?”

“Do you think something’s wrong then?” she asked quickly. “I mean…I hoped maybe it was just something that happens, they don’t always respond…”

“No, they are usually pretty responsive and follow through,” Rosalee said. “We’ll figure this out. Are you home alone?”

“Uh…yeah…”

“If you’re hungry, you’re free to come over. I can pick you up real quick, it’s not too far.” Monroe looked at her with a bit of “are you joking”, but she gave him a look back not to argue.

“…Thanks. That would be nice.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon, just sit tight.” They ended the call and she turned to Monroe. “Can you try to call Nick and Sloane?”

“Yeah…Are Nick and Sloane okay?”

“No, they’re not answering Trubel,” she said, putting the salad in the fridge. “And Sloane hasn’t gotten home from an errand.”

“Huh…I mean, could be something normal? Traffic?” Rosalee gave him a look as she pulled up Juliette’s number and he nodded. “Yeah, I know, it’s never normal…I’ll try them and finish up dinner. I’ll try Hank too.”

“Thanks,” she sighed, grabbing her purse and heading to the car.

“Rosalee, hey,” Juliette said.

“Hey. I just got a call from Trubel that she can’t get ahold of Sloane. She tried Nick too, with no luck so I wanted to see if he was there…”

“No…I was actually about to call you because I haven’t heard from him since this morning,” she said, sounding a bit worried.

Rosalee frowned as well. This was definitely unusual—Nick was good about at least texting Juliette if he was going to be out late. And Sloane would’ve let Trubel know if something came up she was sure. “Okay…Monroe is going to call Hank to see if he knows. Trubel said Sloane was going to run an errand and grab dinner so I’m going to get her for dinner at our place till we know what’s going on.”

“Okay…” Juliette sighed. “I don’t suppose you’d have room for one more? Now I’m on edge and I don’t think I’ll be good alone…”

“Of course, we always make a lot and we can make more,” she said with a smile. “Head on over, Monroe will be there.”

“Thanks,” she sighed. “If it’s not one thing it’s another…”

“Such is life,” Rosalee said in agreement. “See you soon.”

“See you.”

Meanwhile, Monroe turned the vegan eggplant parmesan in the oven down to keep it warm before pulling up his phone and trying Nick. He got no answer either and frowned before leaving a message to call him as soon as he can. The same thing happened with Sloane’s phone and he couldn’t deny that was worrying. Then he called Hank.

“Monroe? What’s up?” It sounded like he was eating.

“Hey. I wish this was a social call, but we got kind of an alert from Trubel she can’t get ahold of Nick or Sloane. And I can’t either…” he trailed off.

Hank frowned and set his fork down into the pasta he’d made, alert now and fully invested. “Can’t get ahold of them?”

“Yeah, the phone rang but went to voicemail on both of them.”

He huffed. “That’s not normal.”

“Trubel said Sloane had an errand?”

“Ah, yeah. A favor for Bud,” Hank nodded.

“Bud?” Monroe asked, surprised at this turn of events.

“Yeah. Something with a mechanic trying to take advantage of him…He asked Sloane to chat with him as a Grimm because he’s wesen.”

“Huh…I’m thinking I’ve been missing out on having Grimms for friends now not thinking about that…Did Nick go with her?”

“Yeah. She actually talked to the guy yesterday, he called today wanting her to look the car over and make sure she was satisfied. Nick offered to go with her because she thought it was weird he’d do that.”

“Oh man…” He sighed. “Should we be worried?”

“I mean, she wasn’t that worried,” Hank said. “She was pretty sure she could take the mechanic if he tried anything. Nick was mostly just going just as a precaution and I think he wanted to look out for her. You know how he is.”

“Yeah, Mr. Protective. Even with the woman who could probably bench press him,” Monroe agreed. “Do you know the mechanic?”

“Nah, she didn’t mention it.”

“Okay. I’ll call Bud in a bit. But, are we overreacting? I mean it’s Nick and Sloane, they’re probably fine,” he said, hopeful.

“I want to think that, but I’d rather overreact than find out we should’ve acted sooner…” he said seriously.

Monroe sighed, agreeing and knowing that the fact neither of them could be tracked down or had checked in was not a good sign. He just wanted to believe they were alright wherever they were.

\--------------

Nick groaned as he slowly woke up. His head was pounding and his mouth felt like it was full of cotton and he smacked his tongue around to try and get some kind of moisture going. He managed to open his eyes, looking around. He was in what looked like a store room of some kind—no windows, but a few crates and boxes around him. It looked like they were full of fruits and vegetables. That explained why it was so cold he realized, pulling his windbreaker closer to his neck. It took a moment for his mind to catch up and remember what hand happened. It was also dark but he could see fairly well—Sloane had started pushing him to train his eyes. “Sloane…” He looked around and then saw her just a couple of feet away in a corner on the other side. He managed to crawl over, his body still lethargic, and get to his knees in front of her. “Sloane? Hey, c’mon,” he said.

Sloane grunted and then her eyes fluttered. Frowning, she looked at him in confusion. “Nick? What…?”

“We got captured,” He sighed, put out but relieved she was awake.

“Ugh…that hare set us up…” she said, remembering. “When I get out of here…”

“We have to get out of here first,” He said, growing more alert. “But I don’t know where here is…”

“A fridge?” Sloane guessed, looking at the crate of apples near her and putting her hands under her arms to try and get them a bit warmer. “A big one it seems, for a restaurant probably…God, is someone going to try and eat us? Again?”

“Can’t rule it out,” he sighed. Looking around, he finally spotted a door at the other end from them. He got to his legs, shaking a little but managing to get over with the crates for support. He tried to open the door, grunting and pushing. “Should’ve known it’d be locked from the other side…”

“My knife and lockpicks are gone,” she said, anger rising. She looked through her pockets. “They took my phone too.”

Nick patted his own pockets down and growled. “Mine too…glad I left my gun in the car I guess.” He looked at her again and frowned, moving back over. “You don’t look so good.”

“I’m just cold,” she sighed. “They might’ve put us in here so that drug would last longer in our system…At least it’s not an actually freezer or we’d be icicles by now.”

Nick nodded and then sat down with her. After a moment he put his arm over her shoulders. “We need to stay warm then to kick their asses. So hang in there.”

She was surprised but then moved closer to him. Sharing a little body heat would help them in the long run. “Don’t worry, I’ll be ready…”

\---------------------

Bud got to Monroe’s late that night when they’d called him for an emergency meeting. His wife hadn’t been too keen but they had said they needed his help. Heading over quickly in her car, he got there just past eleven. Monroe opened the door and Bud tried not to look too put out though his tone was a little waspish. “You know what time it is, Monroe? I know it’s a Friday, but I like to sleep! And so does my wife, and when she doesn’t sleep, well, she’s scarier than you—”

“We figured you’d want to talk about this privately,” Monroe said quickly, ushering Bud to the living room. Trubel was in the kitchen around the corner where she couldn’t be seen—they figured right now wasn’t the best time to introduce her to the Eisbeber. “You asked Sloane to check into something with an auto mechanic, right?”

He froze, looking at all of them. “Uh, yeah…I did. Wait, where is she? And Nick, they’re usually here with you all when something’s gone wrong…”

“That’s what’s gone wrong,” Hank said. “We’ve been trying to call them all evening. We can’t get through though.”

“What? To either of them?” he asked, alarmed.

“Yes. Bud, why exactly did you ask for Sloane’s help?” Juliette asked.

“Well, because this guy—Ryker Dowling—was scamming me! Kept upping the price. So I just wanted her to talk with him. He’s a Langen Ohren, I-I didn’t think he’d be any kind of threat to a Grimm!”

“What’s that?”

“A hare-like wesen. You know, long ears,” he said, making a gesture with his hands like a pair of hare ears. “Some of the fastest wesen alive, but they usually use that speed to run away. I just wanted her to let him know she was going to make sure things were fair!”

“And he was the only one there?” Rosalee asked.

“That I know of. I realized later he was probably doing my repair and some others off the books,” he said, looking a little shamed. “I should’ve just gone to my usual guy, but the shop had good reviews!”

The all looked at one another, taking that all in.

Hank sighed. “It’s getting late…Bud, can you email all the information you have on what happened to us? Including the shop. We’ll go see what they know in the morning.”

“Yeah, sure, of course,” he nodded. “You think…you think something’s happened to them? I mean who would take on two Grimms?!”

“Someone who doesn’t know what they’re getting into,” Monroe said.

\--------------

Sherwin drove up early in the morning on Saturday. He wanted to get a few things organized since they would only be open till 4 that day, so he rolled up to the door by six. When he rolled through to his office he paused when he saw the door to the garage was still open. He sighed, immediately thinking Ryker hadn’t locked up all the way like he was supposed to. Nothing in his office seemed off—the safe was secure and still had everything in it. So going in he turned on the lights and gaped. Tools were thrown about, one of his toolboxes was broken, another chest was dented and a car was still on a lift which was dangerous if it wore the lift down.

“What the hell?!” He wheeled over to get the car down the rest of the way, noting some scratches on it and cursing even louder. Another car had a dent in it he realized and he had to take a moment to breathe. He wheeled back to his office to get his phone and call the police but paused when he glanced out the window and saw Ryker’s truck parked to the side of the building with a couple of other cars. Screwing up his mouth like he’d tasted something fowl, he put his phone in his pocket and headed back out and around to it. Getting to the old blue truck, he pounded on the side. “Ryker!”

There was a yelp and sure enough, he was in there, sleeping across the bench seat in the back. He blinked, bleary-eyed. When he saw Sherwin through the window he fumbled and the window open. “Wh…Sher? What are you doing here?”

“I own this shop,” he said testily. “So a better questions is, why are you sleeping in your car out here? Especially when my garage has been apparently ransacked?”

“Ransacked? What?” Ryker said, laughing nervously.

“Do not even play with me,” Sherwin said, glaring. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Then why are you parked here? Sleeping in your car?”

“I…fell asleep here. I’ve been doing some other odd jobs and stuff so I was tired yesterday—”

“Ryker, I told you I don’t like my guys being tired at work! That’s how mistakes are made.”

“I know, but I needed the money!”

“Why?”

“Because!”

“Because why?!”

“Because I don’t like sleeping in my car either but it’s the only option I got!”

Sherwin was surprised and then softened slightly. “Ryker, you’re sleeping here all the time?”

“Yeah…No one wants me on their couch anymore…” he sighed, opening the door now. He was looking down, shamefaced. “I just…I had some stuff I needed to pay off. And I did, so now I can just put the rest towards getting my life back together.”

“…That doesn’t explain my shop looking the way it does,” Sherwin said. “One of the cars was raised up, another has a big dent! I gotta paint and fix that now!”

“I…”

“You? …Ryker, did you lock up last night?”

“…I heard some noises yesterday evening. I went to go look and I guess I forgot one of the doors,” he said. He wouldn’t quite look at Sherwin, which was usually a tell for shame or lying. Both meant different things here so Sherwin let him keep going. “Some kids came running out. They probably messed a few things up…”

“Why didn’t you call the police?” Sherwin said.

“Well A) I didn’t want to explain why _I _was there so late. And B)…Y’know, we were dumb kids once. We did stupid shit like stealing Mr. Ross’s Model A back in high school. I didn’t want to get them in too much trouble…I was gonna go in and clean it up but I crashed and fell asleep.”

Sherwin gave him a hard stare before sighing. “One of my tool chests is busted and I gotta do extra work on that car. Both of those are coming out of your paycheck.”

“What? But—”

“You left the door unlocked,” Sherwin said. “You are absolutely getting special treatment for this because most guys I would fire for being so careless, but I’m used to dealing with the aftermath of Ryker Dowling,” he said. Ryker hunkered down a little. “So you’re going paint the scratches on that truck with no pay for it and at cost, and paint the other one when I get the dent out, and pay for that tool chest out of your wages. Because you didn’t call the police, it would be a pain in the ass to file with my insurance, so this is you paying me back for not locking the door and not firing you.”

“…Okay…” Ryker said. “Yeah, that’s fair…”

“Yeah. Now get in there and get started.”

\-------------------------

Nick and Slaone were trying to figure out how to get out when they heard voices outside. Sloane got up, nodding to him as she moved over towards the doors. They’re tentative plan was to take out whoever came through and hopefully make a run for it. However, they heard a door open close by but not the door to the room they were in.

“Looks like it’s still locked,” someone said.

“Told you. This is the latest model,” someone else said. “Tight seal, hardy double lock.”

“Yeah yeah…Hey Grimms, you awake?”

Sloane glanced at Nick who looked unsure and shook his head.

“You really think they’ll answer that, dumbass? They probably hope we’ll check and they can get out. Let’s get going.”

“Okay, okay. I just don’t want the boss to kill us himself if they aren’t there…” A door was shut again and Sloane growled in frustration.

“Easy, Sloane,” Nick said, standing to go to her. “You need to conserve energy.”

“I need to get out of here and kick someone’s ass,” she corrected.

“That’s why you need your energy,” he said, smiling. She huffed but smiled back. Then she gasped as heard the sound of an engine. The floor shifted under them and she almost fell over in surprise. Nick held onto her to keep their footing, looking around in confusion. “This…isn’t just a fridge…it’s a refrigerated truck!”

“So where are they taking us?” Sloane sat down after they went over a bump and sighed, grabbing an apple and biting into it. Nick sat as well and she tossed him another apple. “For energy…” He nodded, biting in as well.

They drove for over an hour, Sloane knew that, but it was hard to judge how much or how far or where considering they didn’t even know where they were originally. They ate a few apples and other produce they found to get their stomachs full but it didn’t settle them. Then they rearranged the crates a little, formulating a plan.

Finally they felt the van stopped again. The exterior door was opened, then slowly the interior swung open. A man poked his head in. “…Hey…I see the man, but there’s another right? A woman?” He opened the door a little more, keeping his eyes on Nick who was standing a little farther back. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

“At home,” Nick said, getting ready to fight.

“I’m here though,” Sloane said, dropping down onto him. The man shouted and another tried to get in to help him, but Nick rushed forward and slammed the door on his arm, making him scream. Sloane had the first in a choke hold, pushing off the wall and flipping over him slam him hard on the truck floor while she kept constricting his air. The other man tried to push his way in again and Nick let him, but uppercut him as soon as he was through. Dodging a blow, he kneed him in the stomach and the man woged into a rooster looking wesen, moving to drive a sharp beak into his eye. He dodged and then kicked him hard back out through the doorway, moving out after him. Sloane let go of the now unconscious man and jumped out after Nick, rolling to the ground—which was grassy. They were in the woods of all places!

When she straightened, she and Nick were getting ready to run when they heard a rifle cock. Freezing, Sloane cursed quietly. “Hands up and on your knees,” a deep gravely voice said. Nick recognized it from the garage and turned to see the man that had help catch the them and the woman holding a rifle. “Give her a reason to shoot, please,” he said darkly.

“It’s live ammo this time, my dears,” the woman added.

Nick glared but then slowly got to his knees. Sloane sighed and followed suit. “What’s all this about?” he asked.

“That would be a question for me,” someone else said. They turned their heads and saw an older man sitting near a very expensive looking SUV. He smiled and tipped his hat, and old-fashioned Trilby that matched his brown suit. “Good afternoon,” he said with a slight Greek accent. “My name is Myron Demitro.”

“Demitro?” Nick said, recognizing the name.

“Ah, you know my name? I’m flattered.”

“I’ve heard you’re a wannabe mafioso running lending schemes and gambling dens all over Oregon,” Nick said, not sounding impressed.

“Well, certainly not praising words, but you aren’t wrong,” he chuckled. “Though I prefer to call it my business model. I give people a fun past time, they give me money. If they run out of money, I give them a little more and they pay me back with interest. What’s wrong with all of that?”

“How you collect and filter that money, from what I hear. The police have been looking for you for a while due to allegations of battery, kidnapping, money laundering a more.”

“You are well informed then. But not enough to avoid getting trapped by me.”

“What do you even want with us?” Sloane said. “You could’ve killed us last night so you want us alive.”

“Of course. It’s not as interesting otherwise.” He gestured up a dirt road nearby. “Further up is a group wesen who were able to buy in to this little event last night—it’s a bit rushed I admit, but I think it will be the first of a new hit.”

“New hit what?”

“Game! You see, you Grimms have a reputation as being the greatest hunters. But we’re going to test how you are as prey. In a moment you are going to take off going that way,” he gestured towards the woods. “And you’ll have a ten minute head start. Then, about a dozen wesen who were able to buy into this game on short notice will come after you. The object is to, of course, hunt you down and kill you.”

Sloane and Nick glanced at one another then back at him. “…You’re nuts.”

“Perhaps,” he smiled, not caring about her insult. “But I’ve already made a profit, and that’s just from those interested in a 100 mile radius. The winner, besides getting the title of Grimm Slayer, gets some of the cash too but really I think your heads on their walls are their main goal.”

“We’ll fight back,” Nick pointed out, trying to figure a way out of this.

“They are aware. No formal wavers, but they know it’s kill or be killed for you. Now there are ways you can win too, of course.”

“Really?” he asked dubiously.

“Of course! It’s not interesting otherwise. If you can survive till sundown, you win. If you can defeat all of them, you win.”

“And we go free?”

“Hmmm…if you can evade the players and my men, perhaps, but I’m hoping to make this a regular event if it works out well,” he smiled.

“I doubt you can patrol the whole treeline.”

“She’s got a point,” Marta said.

Demitro laughed, smiling wider. It made Sloane cringe as he had several gold teeth and the others didn’t look great either in various shades of yellow and grey. Apparently he gambled on his dental hygiene as well. “Now then, it’s almost 8 now. I’d make that ten-minute head start count.”

They hesitated and Sloane looked at him defiantly. “And what if we just…don’t move?”

Demitro smiled and then had the man bring over a plastic tub. He pulled out their wallets from them. “Nick Burkhardt and Sloane Larson. Cops. Got your badge numbers, but more than that…I have you’re addresses.” He pointed at their licenses. “I was going to threaten this if you did escape, but I’ll just say it now. I could have some guys go over, check your houses for anyone or anything valuable to you to motivate you.”

“…What stops others from doing it anyway? We might do better going home to protect them.”

“You think I’d let someone else kill my leverage? No no no no,” he chuckled. “Only I have seen these. I keep them with me for that reason. So rest assured, your homes are safe so long as I wish it. But if you keep giving me grief, I’ll send Arman to one of them. He’s moving a little slow today thanks to you but he’s still effective.”

“And I’d be all to happy to kill something today,” he said.

They both glared but when he moved to hand it to the man again, they stood. “Fine…but this isn’t over,” Sloane said darkly.

“Of course it’s not…” he smiled. “I look forward to seeing what you can do.”

They glared once more before turning and heading off into the woods.

\--------------------

It was a little after 8 when Hank pulled up to The Extra Mile car shop. It should be open by then, but he didn’t see any customers just yet. What he did see was Sloane’s black Subaru and Nick’s Navy Ford SUV in the lot to the side, near an old beat up orange truck. Going over, he quickly looked inside and saw Sloane’s knife and holster on the passenger floorboard. If he knew Nick, his gun was probably in the glove compartment. The cars didn’t look to be tampered with or disturbed. Hank headed over and entered the waiting room/office area of the shop. “Hello?”

“Hey. Welcome to the Extra Mile,” a man said. His coveralls said Damon. “How can I help you?”

Hank pulled his badge up and the man stood straighter. “I’d like to talk to whoever’s highest on the foodchain here, if that’s okay.”

“Uh, sure…that’d be Mr. Wiltshire. Just a sec.” He turned and headed to an office nearby, opening the door and speaking to whoever was inside. Damon looked back and gestured for Hank to come over. Hank walked through the door without being told. The wheelchair threw him off just a moment but he nodded to the man in it and held out his hand. “Mr. Wiltshire? I’m Detective Hank Griffin.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking his head. “But I’m a bit worried why you came in flashing the badge…”

“I have some questions for you regarding someone who works for you. A man named Ryker Dowling?”

“Oh what did he do now?” Damon said, sounding exasperated.

“Damon, I’ll handle this,” Sherwin said, eyeing him. Damon held up his hands as if giving up and headed back to the front after closing the door. Sherwin sighed and looked back at Hank. “What is this about, if I can ask?”

Hank eyed him, wishing one of his partners was here. He wasn’t sure if he was wesen or knew about them or what to do exactly. He decided right now he’d just treat it like a case to start out. “Are you aware of Mr. Dowling working on a car for a man named Rupert Wurstner?”

He blinked but then shook his head slowly. “No…hold on.” He went over and opened one of the filing cabinets. “Wurstner, wurstner…I don’t have a file for him. I can check the computer but we try to keep paper and digital. Though it wouldn’t shock me he didn’t do one.” He wheeled over to the computer at his desk. “Can you spell that for me?”

“W-U-R-S-T-N-E-R,” Hank said.

Sherwin typed it in one at a time and searched, then sighed again. “Not in here either…You think Ryker was working on it?”

“Yes. Mr. Wurstner named him specifically and brought his car here to be worked on at 6 in the evening on Monday afternoon.”

“6…we close at 5, that can’t be…” He then got an annoyed look of realization on his face and sighed. “Oh goddamit, Ryker…”

“We had reason to believe he was operating without your knowledge,” Hank confirmed.

“Yeah, probably was. That explains a lot actually,” he sighed. “Did this Mr. Wurstner filed a complaint or something?”

“Or something,” Hank said evasively. “Could I talk to Mr. Dowling?”

“Yeah, sure…” He wheeled over to the door and Hank got it for him on reflex. Sherwin rolled onto the shop floor. “RYKER! Over here, now!”

The man jumped but then set down the sander he was using and made his way over, looking wary. “Hey…what’s up?”

Sherwin glared. “My office.” He turned and maneuvered back inside. Ryker headed in and paused when he saw Hank.

“Mr. Dowling? I’m Detective Griffin,” he said, offering his hand. Ryker tried not to look too nervous but Hank could feel the sweat on his palms.

“He’s here about your little side business. Out of _my_ garage,” Sherwin spat.

Ryker paled. “I…Um…I was just—”

“Just nothing! I trusted you! And you put my reputation and the reputation of my shop and everyone here on the line!” he said, slapping his desk angrily.

“L-look, I’m stopping it, okay? I don’t need the extra cash anymore. Everyone is going to get their cars back in tip top shape in the next few days,” Ryker said, looking between them.

“Actually, that’s only part of why I’m here,” Hank said.

“Part?” Sherwin asked.

“Yeah.” Hank leveled his gaze at Ryker. “My partners, Detectives Sloane Larson and Nick Burkhardt, also came to talk to you yesterday. And now they’re missing.”

Ryker gaped and Hank had a feeling, in his gut, he woged in shock. He decided to roll with it. Leaning in, he said quietly. “I’m not a Grimm, but I think you just woged, right?”

He stumbled back, pressing against the wall. “I, you—”

“Ryker, what is he talking about?” Sherwin said. “There were more cops here? Last night?”

“N-no!”

“So that’s not their cars parked over along the side there? I find that hard to believe because I know their license plates almost as well as my own. I’ll be having someone come and get them later, possibly for processing, so they better still be there too.” Ryker swallowed again at the darker tone Hank was taking.

“What the hell did you do?” Sherwin said, his face growing horrified.

“I…I…” He breathed fast and shook. “They were Grimms, Sherwin!”

Sherwin straightened and then looked at Hank warily. Hank looked back. “You a wesen or a kennen?”

“…” He woged into Cat-like wesen with spots and and black stripes coming down from its eyes, which were now honey-gold.

_A cheetah?_

He changed back, eyeing him more. “You’re not a Grimm…”

“No. But my partners were. And they were not the type to just hunt any wesen down. They came because a friend of ours who is an eisbiber—that would be Mr. Wurstner—thought he was getting scammed by him,” he pointed at Ryker who flinched. “First it was Sloane. Then he called her to get her to come out and supposedly check the repairs, and Nick went with her, and now they are both missing. Now, I’m not actually here as a cop.” He took his badge off, putting it in his pocket. “I’m here as a concerned friend of wesen and Grimms. I want to know what happened and where they are. But if I don’t get answers, then I’m going to be coming back with a warrant. Or with the rest of my friends, which include some very tough wesen and another Grimm.”

“Y-you expect me to believe Grimms and wesen work together?” Ryker said.

“I’m here to tell you they do. So, where are they?”

Ryker hesitated, licking his lips a bit. “Oh for God’s sake, tell him!” Sherwin said.

He hesitated more then looked down. “I-I don’t know, really…some guys came and took them, but I don’t know anything. It just happened…”

Sherwin stared at him and so did Hank, though with differing looks of disbelief. “…Fine. I’ll get a warrant and we’ll turn this place upside down if we have to.” He pulled out his card and slapped it down on the desk. “If either of you change your mind and know something that can help, call me.” He headed for the door and Sherwin wanted to tell him to wait but he was still shocked. Ryker pulled the door closed quickly as if to protect them, shaking a little bit but breathing deeply. Sherwin wheeled over to his desk and pulled out a bottle of whiskey he kept there usually for special occasions. This wasn’t what he had in mind as special of course. He poured one glass, gulping it down and then pressing his forehead to the glass as he felt the burn and focused on it. Several minutes passed in silence as he tried to work out all the information.

“…I-it’s okay, Sher,” Ryker said finally. “He can get a warrant, they won’t find anything.”

“You’re lying,” Sherwin said, flat and emotionless.

“What? No, they really won’t. It’s just—”

“You absolutely know something,” Sherwin said, setting the glass on the desk. “You lied to him. And you’ve been lying to me for who knows how long.”

“I…Sherwin, it wasn’t on purpose—”

“Lying is always on purpose!” he snarled. “There’s ignorance and then there’s lying. And you’re shit at it. You always have been but you keep trying because you’re scared of getting in trouble or have some kind of thrill from trying. Or both! It’s why you suck at gambling—that and you just honestly have no idea what you’re doing. But you keep doing stupid shit to get in trouble! And you drag everyone else down with you!”

Ryker jolted in shock at the harsh words. “I…Sherwin, it’s not that, really. I mean, I got in trouble yeah, but I’m not—”

“He’s going to get a warrant. There are going to be a ton of police cars around here, going over everything. How’s that going to look, hm? People are going to wonder why they’re doing that, gonna spread rumors and tank our garage!” He slammed the glass down and looked at him. “So, what did you do?”

He swallowed and slowly sat down on a nearby chair. “…I…I got in over my head. I was gambling again.”

“I knew it…Goddamit, Ryker!” he hissed.

“I know, I know!” he said. “I just…I thought it was harmless. But I got in a little too far. So they offered me a loan and I took it, but I dug a deeper hole and they wanted their money plus an insane amount of interest and…that’s why I was doing other cars here without you knowing. Pocketing as much cash as I could.”

“And scamming people,” he accused.

“…I…might have overdone the prices a bit…” Sherwin glared deeply and Ryker flinched. “I-it was just supposed to be for a week, so I would get enough money. But it didn’t work, some made me give the cars back, and I couldn’t get them all done in time, and then the Grimm…And the guys I owed are _bad_ news. But when I told them about the Grimm, they…they were interested. So I worked out with them to kind of trap her…that there was another one was a surprise but they took both of them.”

“Took them where?”

“I don’t know—”

“You are lying again!” he said. “I’ve known you since we were six, I know all your tells!”

“Sherwin, I can’t say! These people, they will mess me up!”

“Well you beat them to it because you are already messed up!” he said, pointing a finger at him. “You always have been, I just kept trying to make excuses for you!”

“What? Sher—”

“No, you listen,” he said, wheeling around. “We’ve been friends since we were kids, but that is over now. I am done turning a blind eye to your selfishness and laziness and-and all of it!”

“What? Hey now, I am not selfish or lazy!” he said defensively.

“Yes you are,” he said, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down close enough to see his eyes, which were turning gold. “You are a selfish, lazy bastard! And it’s your fault I’m in this damn wheelchair!”

Ryker froze, eyes wide. “What? I…Sherwin, that was an-an accident,” Ryker said.

“It was your fault! Because you can’t be bothered to do a job correctly if you do it at all anymore! We were doing good as racers, and then you got a big head and didn’t think you needed to check the car before the race. You didn’t catch the problem with the steering well because of that and I lost control of the car.”

“…Y…you knew? ” he asked quietly. It was a question that had so much pain and fear in it—a secret he had hoped to never have to confront.

“I knew,” he pushed him away, hard enough the chair tipped back and he yelped. “I knew for six years but I thought it was an accident up until right now. That you didn’t do it on purpose, maybe didn’t even realize. You knew what you did and you never even tried to talk to me about it?”

“Wh-what could I say? I mean, I swear it wasn’t on purpose—” he said, choking up a little at the years of guilt bubbling up.

“I don’t know if I believe you now. I know you were betting on the races.”

“I wouldn’t sabotage you!” he gasped. “I would never! And why didn’t you ever ask me about it i-if you suspected I messed up?”

“I didn’t want it weighing on you,” he laughed bitterly. “I was angry at first over being in the chair, and even more so when I found out it was your fault. But then I decided I wasn’t going to feel sorry for myself being in a wheelchair now. I’m alive, and I’m going to thrive. Figured I could get my life back on a different track even if it wasn’t a race track. And after a lot of goddamn work, I’m a business owner and doing well for myself and figured I didn’t need to ruin your life since mine wasn’t ruined, as much as I miss some things. But I still thought you’d say sorry one day. Instead, the last 6 years I keep seeing this pattern of you digging holes and pulling other people into them to try and climb over them and get out, and half the time it’s because you never finish anything and leave it for someone else to clean up! I kept thinking you would learn after what I went through, maybe you needed a reminder and seeing me everyday would help. But no, you don’t change even when it hurts the people who care about you. And now total strangers too!”

“I-They’re just Grimms!” he said, standing.

“I don’t care what they are! Grimms are at least upfront about killing wesen most of the time. You let a bunch of dangerous people take them, sacrificed them to save your own skin! But you didn’t figure someone would miss them? That someone would come looking? And to top it off, they were cops, not just Grimms!”

“I didn’t know that!”

“You don’t know anything! You never think anything threw or think how it’s gonna effect other people! And now you won’t even tell the truth to try and make things better for me and my shop and the people you’ve stepped over, after all I’ve done for you and all the times I defended you!” He grabbed the card up and went over, pressing it to his chest. “Call him, tell him what you know. Save my shop instead of ruining my life _again._”

Ryker fumbled the card but shook his head. “It’s not that simple—”

“Maybe not for you, but for me it is because I’m not going to deal with a guy that offers up other people’s heads on a chopping block like this. Call him, catch him, do something now and show me you aren’t the gutless coward I’m seeing. That I wasn’t wrong about you being a good man.”

Ryker swallowed, the words stinging, but didn’t move. “…I can’t…”

He breathed deeply and wheeled back to the desk. “Get out. You’re fired from my shop, and you’re fired as my friend.”

Ryker gaped. Even after some of his worst times, Sherwin never turned him out before. But after yelling he was panting and staring at him as if he would maul him if he could. They’re friendship was always strange to some—a Langen Ohren and a Ukufu Okusheshayo. Prey and Predator to many. Two of the fastest kind of wesen to everyone. But Sherwin had been there for him as a kid—they’d raced each other and then done track together and then gotten into cars together. He’d felt that crushing guilt all these years, but had been terrified of him knowing and ousting him. Now he was and it was all tumbling down around him. “Sherwin, I-”

“Out!” He grabbed the glass from his desk and threw it at him. Ryker ducked and then stared at him again before rushing out the door. Sherwin was left staring at it and then groaning loudly. How was he going to get through this?

\------------------

Sloane and Nick sprinted for nearly 30 seconds, full speed, to put as much distance as they could between them and Demitro’s welcoming party. They took cover behind some trees to catch their breaths. “So…plan?” Nick asked.

“I need…a little more time,” she panted. “I don’t know how many people are after us and he didn’t mention what their conditions are. Is it strictly melee or do they get to use weapons for example.”

“Well we don’t have weapons,” Nick pointed out. He was getting his breath back easier. He didn’t have the endless stamina he did when he had his PTZD, but he was still able to recover much faster. Sloane was recovering fast as well though.

“Yeah, I want my knife back,” she grumbled. “If they do have them, we could many get them from them. But something to defend us now would be good…”

Nick looked around and then walked over and grabbed a good size branch, feeling over it. “Feels solid…Walk softly and carry a big stick?”

She smiled a bit. “Might be the best strategy for now.” She pushed herself up and found her own clubbing stick, swinging it experimentally. “So, what we’re missing: Cellphones, car keys, my knife…Wish I’d left that in the car now. I hoped meeting Ryker would be peaceful, but I wanted it just in case.”

“Yeah, that’s usually my hope and my plan.” He looked around. “Let’s keep walking, try to put a bit more distance between us and them.” Sloane nodded and they started through the trees. “The others are going to realize we’re missing.”

“But are they going to be able to find us? I’m not even sure where we are.”

“Well, that crazy mafioso said he put this together quickly. And I don’t think we were out more than a few hours…” he said, detective mind working.

Sloane nodded. “So we’re probably still in state, maybe not too far from Portland, unless they drove during the night...”

“No, he said he got people in a 100 mile radius. I doubt he’d go out of state or too far from Portland.”

Nick smiled. “Good point.”

She smiled back. “I have those on occasion.”

He chuckled, glad they could still joke. Somehow it made the situation feel less hopeless. “If we can find a road we might be able to get to a town. But that might be along shot depending on how far we are in…”

“Not too far. They got that big truck in with us inside.”

“Another good point,” he nodded. “But that means it’s back behind us…”

Sloane hummed and sighed. Then she paused, focusing her hearing. “…I guess it’s been ten minutes…”

Nick looked back focusing as well and cursed when he saw what he believed was a polar bear wesen rushing towards them in a frontal attack. He was surprisingly fast despite his side and though they started moving back and away he caught up and went for Nick first with a loud, echoing roar. Nick brought the branch up and around, smashing it into his face hard enough it snapped and the man went down with a whine and probably a broken jaw. “Well…that’s one…”

“Yeah, but I see more coming,” Sloane said, grabbing his hand and pulling him as more wesen were coming through the trees. Nick looked back and saw a big group running up to them and cursed. The one in the front, a Lowan, leaping for them farther than a human was able to and trying to take them both down. Sloane and Nick moved away and instinctively went back to back as the others flooded in, almost 8 in total of all different kinds—Fuchsbau, a couple of Anubis, some wesen that were wolf-like but different than Monroe, a tiger, jaegerbar and of all things a Hippopotamus. Nick would have to ask or look some of them up later. When they converged on them, he and Sloane managed to read each other back to back and dodge to the side. Sloane brought her knee up to one Anubis, grabbing his head and smashing it into the other. Nick dodged the Lowan again, upper cutting her hard enough it hurt his hand a little and then kicking her away. Sloane kicked and punched the Anubis away, then judo flipped the fuchsbau and kicked him in the head hard enough to keep him down.

When the hippo tried to smash them, they had to move apart. A wolf went for Nick but he ducked under the blow, grabbed him around the middle and actually suplexed him—his brief WWE phase coming back to him from the depths of his pre-teen years. He wondered if Sloane had one as well as she did an inverted atomic drop on one of the others, then rolled away before his friend could grab her and forced her heel into his face hard enough his nose was probably broken now. He caught her eye and nodded at the hippo. She nodded back and they broke apart, racing around the edges and then to their big opponent. She went high, getting her arm with the stick around his neck and swinging around with her full weight, throwing that big body off balance enough Nick was able to kick his knees hard enough he went down on them. Sloane moved around again and brought her knees up hard into his face before swinging off and letting Nick slug him so he was down for the count.

Sloane gasped as she was tackled from the side. The female Rißfleisch—Tiger, big, strong and very sharp teeth—snarled and moved to bite her throat. She just managed to get the stick she had between her jaws, but those razor teeth were already splintering the wood. Baring her own teeth, she put as much strength as she could into rolling them both over and punching her in the face. She snarled and Sloane punched again, finally getting her to dewoge as she passed out. Standing, she panted and looked around.

Nick was dodging blows from the jagerbar and the other wolf, using his footwork to his advantage before punching the wolf in the face as well. They’re best bets were to knock any contenders out as fast as possible, but it was easier said than done. Nick hissed when a clawed hand got his arm but managed to dodge around his side and then grab him around the throat, putting all his strength into choking off his air supply. He struggled, dewoging even as he scrabbled at Nick’s arm. The Jaegerbar moved for him but Sloane yelled to distract him and then cracked the stick over his head, shattering it. The wolf’s eyes rolled up and he went down at almost the same time. Nick panted and the looked over at her. “You okay?”

“I’m standing,” she said. “You?”

“Yeah…I don’t think that’s all of them though,” he said.

“No…the others probably are watching and saw how a frontal assault went…we should keep moving, finding something else for a weapon.” He nodded and they kept moving through the woods.

\--------------------

Hank headed back to Monroe’s house after the Extra Mile, where everyone had gathered. Bud was still there, and Trubel was in the kitchen to avoid a lot of extra talk about a third Grimm. Monroe looked up hopefully when Hank walked in, having been pacing it looked like. “Hey. Got anything?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Not much. Confirmed they were there yesterday, they’re cars are still at the shop. But the guy who basically lured them there said someone took them.”

“Who?” Juliette said, frustrated as well.

“He said he didn’t know. But I could tell he was full of it, he’s not good at lying.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Bud said. “I was telling the others I asked around about Ryker Dowling. A few people recognized the name and he’s got some bad gambling and loan debts.”

“Do you know to who?” Hank asked.

Bud shook his head. “Everyone I talked too got real tightlipped about that part…”

“So someone bad,” Rosalee guessed.

“That could be half the loan sharks in this city,” Hank sighed.

“Well we need to think of something,” Juliette said.

“Yeah,” Monroe nodded. “You said you think this guy does know something? Well, why don’t we go put the squeeze on him?”

“Put the squeeze?” Hank asked, surprised and a little amused by his choice of words.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I can go, Tr…um, some others can go, and we’ll _squeeze_ him real good.”

Hank sighed a little. “I’m not happy with that idea, but I agree it’s an option…”

“No one’s happy about any of this,” Rosalee said. “But we have to find them.”

“Yeah…I just…I feel awful, this is all my fault,” Bud said. “I should’ve just owned up to the damage I did to my car and taken it to my usual guy…Or just not involve Sloane…”

“Hey, you asked for help. Sloane was okay helping, she had no idea this would happen,” Juliette said, patting his back. “Nick going with her for support is just how he is…”

Hank nodded then perked up when his phone went off. He pulled it out, not recognizing the number but okaying the call. “Griffin.”

“Uh…Hey. This is, um…Ryker Dowling,” a voice stuttered.

He looked surprised, then at the others. “Mr. Dowling…wasn’t sure you’d call.” They all looked at the phone in surprise and hope.

“I…wasn’t really but…I got my ass chewed out by Sherwin and…He made some good points,” he said, sounding genuinely upset and contrite. “So, um…I do know where your friends are. But it’s really…really bad.”

“How bad?” Hank asked.

“You uh…ever read “_The Most Dangerous Game_”?”

\----------------------------

Sloane and Nick had found a small stream, sitting down to cool off a little. They’d been running and fighting most of the day. Sloane had dipped her whole head in the water and Nick almost wanted to laugh but he ran the water over his head and face as well. “I think we’re doing pretty well,” Nick said, trying to lighten the mood.

Sloane moved the wet hair out of her face. “We’re alive but I’m not sure about “doing well”. I’m pretty sure a lot of these guys have no actual fighting experience…”

“So we’re more skilled?” he said, wondering how that was bad.

“Yes, but who knows if there are other more skilled wesen after us.” She sighed and sat down next to him on a larger rock near the stream. “We need a plan of some kind…”

Nick sighed as well. “He can’t have this whole place surrounded…There’s got to be a place we can get out of the woods and find help.”

“We don’t know how much forest there is,” Sloane pointed out. She looked around, trying to get ideas. “…I’m going to climb one of the trees, try to get a better view.”

“Good idea…I’ll give you a boost and watch the base.” He stood and followed her to one of the taller trees nearby. Lacing his fingers, Sloane stepped into his hands and Nick helped her get up to one of the lower branches. Sloane started climbing, managing to do it quickly and agilely. Getting up as high as she could beyond some of the other trees, she started craning her neck around. She paused when she saw what looked like a watch tower in the distance, likely for the park rangers. That could have a radio or other things they could use she thought, and it wasn’t too far.

“See anything?”

“Hold on!” She made a note of the direction and started down. “I think I got something-”

There was the sound of a rifle firing and Nick saw Sloane release her hold on the tree and fall in slow motion as his heart hammered up and then felt like it stopped. “SLOANE!!”

\------------------------

Hank drove slowly through the woods, looking for any sign of trouble. Monroe was up front while Trubel, and Ryker were in the back. Juliette, Rosalee and Bud had opted to stay at home in case there was an emergency and they’d call him to relay messages. Trubel had snuck out to the car at Hank’s urging.

“You guys are serious about this? About going up against Demitro and his guys?” Ryker finally asked, looking at them like they were crazy. He’d been jittering his foot in the car for the last hour.

“As a heart attack, which you are going to have if you don’t calm down,” Monroe said.

“How can I be calm?! You’re taking me to a place full of homicidal gangsters and wesen!”

“And you got yourself in that situation by betraying our friends,” Trubel said, glaring at him. He hunkered down, doubly afraid of her.

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you,” Hank said. “So long as Nick and Sloane get back to us in one piece”

“…And if they don’t?”

“Well…we’re going to have our hands full getting them out to keep an eye on you.”

Ryker swallowed. “W-what about more cops?”

“I’ll be calling them when we find Demitro and confirm your story. I don’t think you’re lying, but I’m not calling my captain in till I’m sure.”

“And he will definitely let you know he’s upset with you,” Monroe added.

“If we gotta handle this without the cops we can do that too,” Hank added. “Now, keep looking at tell me if you see anything that can help point us in the right direction.”

“O-Okay, but they didn’t tell me a specific location, remember?” Ryker said.

“Whatever you can figure out that can help us get to them before someone else does.”

\---------------------------

Sloane panted, having caught herself on another branch almost half-way down the tree with both her upper arms.

“Sloane?!” Nick called again, moving around to face her.

“I-I’m okay, it just grazed me!” she said. She felt the burn in her arm—it was a bit more than a graze but the bullet wasn’t inside her arm at least. “We need to move!” She managed to grit her teeth through the pain and start climbing down, moving around the side to try and give herself cover. Another shot hit near where she had been and Nick rushed around the side as well to avoid being a target. When Sloane was low enough and didn’t have any branches on her side, he held up his arms.

“Jump! I got you!”

Sloane took a breath but let go and pushed away from the tree. Nick caught her with a grunt and set her on her feet quickly. “What now?”

“I saw a fire tower,” she said quietly. “That might be the best place to hold up, and they might have something we can use to get help.”

He nodded then frowned when he saw the blood on her arm. “Sloane, that’s looks bad…”

“It could be worse,” she said.

They both tensed when they heard the sound of someone dropping from a tree. “You know, I’m not using the darts this time, sweeties,” a feminine voice said. _Marta._ “But I’m not keen on killing you with a bullet. A Grimm killed my brother, so I’m much more interested in making this slow and painful. A little cathartic therapy.”

“Oh good, she’s crazy and wants revenge,” Sloane sighed quietly. Looking around, she grabbed a rock with her uninjured arm and moved around. Nick stayed close to her, wondering what she was thinking. She could see her coming towards them. Taking a breath, Sloane came out from behind the tree and chucked the rock at her head like a baseball pitcher.

Marta wasn’t able to block quite fast enough and she shouted and cursed when the rock hit her in the eye. “You bitch!”

“C’mon!” She took his hand again and started through the woods fast, following the sun through the leaves. They moved quickly, trying to put as much distance between them and the sniper as possible.

“You sure this is the right direction?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, west ward. Probably about twenty minutes away if we keep moving.”

Nick nodded, continuing to move with her though watching her worriedly. She took her hand back to press to her arm, trying to slow the bleeding but it was oozing between her fingers. Soon the trees started thinning out and he saw the tower in the distance. It was thankfully the kind with switchback stairs and not a ladder. Nick followed as she ascended, the climb long given how tall the tower was, but it was also metal and wood and looked solid. Getting to the top, they climbed onto the platform that wrapped around the building. The building part in the center was mostly windows, as it was meant to watch out over the woods, so it wouldn’t provide much to hide them but it was taller than the trees and required people to come up one at a time, so it was still a good safehouse. Sloane had to grip the side rail, breathing a little too heavy once she was up top. She was losing blood again he knew, drops going down her arm to the floor.

“C’mon, let’s get inside,” he said quietly, pulling her along gently. She nodded and followed. Nick tried the door, glaring when it was locked. It made sense but it was frustrating. “Stand back.” He wanted to make sure she was out of the way before lining up his body and slamming into the door. The lock broke under his assault and he stumbled in. He was glad it was easy to break down and that there was no one inside. But there was a radio, and he breathed out in relief. “C’mon in.”

She stepped in, sighing in relief at the radio as well. “Finally, something goes our way…”

“Yeah…but first, take off you’re jacket and sit down,” he said, motioning at the simple wooden chair near a simple wooden desk meant for making notes.

Sloane hissed as she slipped the jacket off, letting it drag on the floor as she went to sit down. “Glad I didn’t wear any of my favorite clothes today,” she sighed. “Or yesterday…”

Nick just hummed, going over to look. “Shit…” he said. The graze was deep, which was why it wasn’t closing well. “Sloane, I think you’ll need stitches for this…”

“Well, you have a sewing kit they didn’t take?” she asked lightly. He wasn’t liking how pale she looked.

“Ha, no…Hold on,” he started looking around. “If this is a fire tower, it should have…aha!” He quickly pulled out a large first aid kit, dusting it off a bit. “Lets see what we have here.”

“Is a suture kit too much to ask?”

“…Apparently not,” Nick asked, picking up a survivalist suture kit.

Sloane was surprised but smiled and held her hand out. “Alright, whoever put this thing together has my gratitude.”

Nick paused in handing it to her. “I don’t know how to suture a wound though…”

“I do,” Sloane sighed, opening it up. “But we need to sterilize it first. I need hydrogen peroxide, Iodine and a saline solution. Does it have all that?”

“Uh…yeah,” he said, grabbing the bottles quickly.

“Awesome,” she said, trying to thread the needle with shaking fingers. That was anemia for you, it wasn’t great for coordination. “Stupid freakin…”

Nick gently put his hands on hers. “I’ll thread it…”

“Thanks,” she sighed. “Waited too long, lost more blood than I like…which I guess would be any blood?”

Nick tried not to worry about that, threading the needle. “What’s next?”

“If you could sterilize the needle and suture thread with the hydrogen peroxide, that’d be great. I’ll do the wound.” She picked up the bottle of iodine and saline solution. As an afterthought, she grabbed a pad of paper off the desk. “Okay…” she sighed, putting it in her mouth. Nick didn’t ask, already thinking he knew what was about to happen. Sloane brought the iodine up and poured it into the wound, grunting and biting into the paper at the feeling. Nick winced sympathetically but kept working to wind the needle and thread through the hydrogen peroxide. After a few moments she grabbed the saline solution and flushed the wound out, panting a little. Taking the pad out, she looked at the wound again and then cursed. “Shit…I just realized, I don’t know if I can suture this very well…I need both hands…”

Nick was quiet a moment before sighing and sitting on the desk. “Turn towards me…You’ll have to explain what to do though.”

“Nick—”

“I can do this,” he said firmly. “I’ve had to deal with plenty of shit, I can suture a wound close.”

“…Okay,” she said, grabbing a pen. “This is the one Deirdre taught me for wounds like this, she learned it from a doctor. I’m going to try and mark where to go. You’ll need the forceps too,” she said, grabbing them out of the kit with her good arm handing them too him. She proceeded to mark and explain how to put the needle in and tie the knots.

“…I don’t’ have pain stuff,” Nick realized. “It wasn’t in there.”

“I figured,” she sighed. “It’s going to hurt, but It’s not my first time with this. I’ll bite on the pad, just…keep calm and don’t think you need to go fast. I’d rather it be solid than fast.”

Nick swallowed, looking worried. “I don’t want to put you through more pain though…”

She smiled at him. “Hey, bleeding heart, I’m fine. I’d rather this thing be closed because running around with it open hurts a lot more.”

Nick smiled at the epithet she always used to use on him. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was said much more fondly, like a friendly nickname now. “Okay…just tell me if I’m not doing it right. Or signal me.”

“Oh I will,” she smiled, putting the pad in her mouth. Taking a deep breath, he started suturing. Despite being deep, it was about as long as her thumb and just needed about ten sutures. Sloane winced and took a deep breath every pin prick, but despite no trial runs Nick didn’t do too badly knotting them. He managed to keep them almost perfectly lined up and straight and the right depth, and knotted them tight enough to bring the flesh and tissue back together.

“I think that’s good,” he sighed.

Sloane looked at it, sweating slightly, and took the pad from her mouth. “For your first suturing, not bad at all,” she said, though her voice wavered. She move her arm slightly wincing but not as bad as before. “I think that will hold for a while…” She looked up at Nick with a smile. “Thanks. Gotta rinse it with the iodine and saline again though.”

He smiled and picked them up before she could, and she didn’t argue this time. Using her wind breaker to catch the dribble, he ran the iodine over it. She grunted but didn’t need to bite something this time. “You can thank me when we’re out of this for good…”

“Yeah…I’m sorry I kind of got you into this,” Sloane said quietly. “It’s because I did Bud that favor…”

“Hey, you did a favor for a friend, that’s good. I volunteered to join you even though you said you had it covered,” he pointed out, rinsing with the saline and then drying with a sterile gauze. “And I’m glad I came with you. I’d feel worse if you were going through this all alone…Even you would have trouble here.” He picked up the bandages from the first aid kit and started winding them around for her and she let him, kind of enjoying not doing it herself for once.

“Usually I’d tell you I’d take them all on single handedly, but I’ve been rather humbled…” she said.

Nick tried to smile but he couldn’t help but worry. “How’d you manage this without help before.”

“You assume I’ve been kidnapped and hunted for sport before?” She quirked her brow, her tone saying this was actually a very rare occurrence.

“No,” he laughed. “How’d you manage hunting alone before? You’ve mentioned doing triage on yourself before. You were ready to suture that yourself. I don’t know what I’d have done in in a situation like that.”

Sloane sighed a little. “You do what you have to survive…a high pain tolerance and nerves of steel help.” She looked at him and smiled a little. “But an extra set of eyes and hands help more sometimes…”

He smiled back. He was still worried, but she didn’t seem to be so he decided to trust she was alright. Standing, he turned to the radio. “Well, shall we see if this works?” She nodded hopefully. Nick found the on switch and tried it, then flipped it multiple times when it didn’t do anything. “Goddamit…”

“It needs power…” Sloane stood and moved to the window, following a tube she knew the electric wires from the light followed. “Ah, there’s a generator outside. Looks solar, relatively new. Safer than gas I guess.”

Nick walked over and looked as well. “Right. I’ll go out, see if it’ll get started.”

“Be careful…I probably left a trail those guys will follow,” she said, noting the blood on the floor. Nick nodded and headed outside. Getting to the generator, he looked it over to figure out how to turn it on. Sloane meanwhile was looking over things inside the tower. There was a map of the area she quickly looked over, trying to figure out where they were. She found the road that must’ve been the one Demitro and the others followed to get there, and figured out the area the truck and the rest of them must’ve been parked. She wondered if he still had their keys, wallets, and her knife with him, but knew they might have to just give up and get new everything. The knife hurt a little—even if it had killed _many_ wesen in the past, it was part of her family really at this point. But they weren’t strong enough to storm the castle at the moment to get them back. They’d just have to hope that getting to Renard, they could get him before he told anyone their identities.

Opening the drawers of the desk, she nearly shouted in triumph when she pulled a hunting knife out. Whoever left that was her hero now and she looked it over. Not as good of quality as her own, but it would do she thought and put it in her belt. Looking more, she also found a flair gun in a box under the bed. That might come in handy too she thought. And a pair of hefty scissors in the other drawer.

Nick finally figured out the generator and got it working. It wasn’t quiet and made him cringe, but it was a necessity. He kept low as he moved to be safe and got inside. “Okay, I got it. Let’s see if we can get someone.”

“Sounds good. Found a knife and a flare gun.”

“Nice,” he said.

“I also found a bigger pair of scissors,” she said, holding them up. “Might do in a pinch.”

Nick took them when she offered, putting them in his back pocket as he turned on the radio. “Anything else?”

She smiled and held up two protein bars. “Lunch?”

“Ah, how gourmet,” he said, taking one.

“Beggers can’t be choosers,” she sighed, opening her own and biting in. “Might help me feel less anemic too.”

Nick paused then held out his bar. “Do you need both of them?”

Sloane blinked as she chewed and then shook her head and swallowed. “No, eat. We’ve only had fruit since yesterday afternoon and we’ve probably burned a lot of that off. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said, pushing his hand back towards him with a smile. “I appreciate the gesture, really, but we both need some energy to keep going.”

Nick nodded slowly and at his own bar while they waited for the lightbulb above to gain all its light and show the generator was at full. He smiled when the radio lit up. “Oh thank God…”

“Do we just try a random channel?” Sloane asked.

“I want to try one I know first…just on a chance,” he sighed, adjusting the radio. “I think it should be able to get this frequency…”

\-----------------

When the radio crackled, Hank was confused. It sounded muffled and not like the usual dispatch alert.  
“What the heck?” He reached out, intent to turn it off.

“_shhhhzt-This is Nick Burkhardt, Detective at South Precinct 83 of Portland Oregon, can anyone read me ?”_

He slammed on the breaks, everyone oofing when their seatbelts caught them, but they were all distracted by the radio. Hank nearly dropped the speaker when he tried to grab it but got it up to his mouth. “Nick?!”

“_Yes! Shhhzt Hank? You can get this?”_

“Not that clearly, but yeah! Where are you that you got a radio?!”

“_Shhzt-Firwatch tower. I’m not sure exactly where—we’re lost in the woods. Shhzt-guy at the garage had a bunch of friends that caught us.”_

“We know,” Hank said quickly, glancing at a sheepish Ryker. “We figured it out and Mr. Dowling finally came around to helping us. We’re driving up Germantown road right now with him, trying to figure out where a guy named Demitro took you so we can get you back.”

“_We don’t know either shhzt He released us this morning for a “hunting” game. The fire tower was the first thing we found out here after a couple of fights. …Sloane does say we have a map though and thinks she knows where Demitro started us out.”_

Monroe quickly grabbed the map, unfolding it to the right place.

“_Okay, so this is an estimate, but according to this map in the tower there should be an off shoot road called Mosinee,” _Sloane’s voice came through. “_Turn down that and I think there should probably be a lot of cars and stuff. We’ve had a lot of guys come and attack us.”_

“Are you okay?” Trubel asked loudly.

“_I’m wounded but still fighting. Nick is relatively okay. Someone has a rifle out here. I think it’s the same sharfblieke that tranquilized us…_”

“Oooh, Marta,” Ryker said, shuddering. “She scary…like, hitwoman scary…”

Monroe took the mic from Hank as he was looking over the map. “Okay, so I’m looking over the map and I think I see where you guys are, a fire watch tower about 20 miles from the road.”

“_Sounds about right from our map,” _Nick said. _“We managed to find some basic and makeshift weapons. He took ours, and our wallets and keys…he knows where we live and threatened anyone we know.”_

“Juliette’s fine, and we’ll be sure he can’t act on that,” Hank said.

“_I know. But I don’t know how many more of these guys are out here-”_

The signal suddenly went out. “Nick? Sloane?” Hank said, trying to get it back. “Shit, something must’ve happened!”

“But we know about where they are,” Trubel said.

“We can’t get there in a car though,” Monroe said, looking over the map. “But actually, we might be closer here than from where those guys are parked if we keep heading up the road.”

“Okay…that’s good,” he said, nodding. Hank reached under his seat and pulled out a gun. “Sloane always locks her gun up at the precinct, I got it yesterday just in case. Monroe says you’re a fast kind of wesen, right?”

“Y-yeah?” Ryker said, not liking where this was going.

“You are going to run this to them so they have some firepower.”

“I-are you serious? I-I can’t!”

“Yeah, do you really want to give this guy a gun?” Trubel said, eyeing him.

“I’m trusting him to do the right thing,” Hank said firmly. Ryker looked at him, feeling that was a low blow. He looked at the gun, worried. He’d never even held a gun before. But with a shaking hand he reached out and took it. “Get the gun to them. We’re going to go check out Demitro and call for back up once we confirm he’s here. Get back to the road and wait for us _with _them once you find them.”

He and Hank climbed out the car, Monroe rolling down the window to watch them. Ryker hesitated at the edge of the woods and looked back. “I mean…I can just go with you guys…Safety in numbers and all that.”

“Get that gun to him _fast,_” Monroe said, eyes turning a little red. “Or you’ll be running because I’ll be chasing you.”

Ryker blanched and then turned and ran through the woods as fast as she could. Which was _fast_ Hank had to admit. He wondered how many professional athletes were wesen suddenly and then shook his head.

“What are we going to do?” Trubel asked.

“Like I said, we’re going to go check out where that guy is parked, see what he might have we’d need to worry about,” Hank said.

“You sure that rabbit is trustworthy?” Monroe asked.

Hank sighed as he got back into the car. “I think this is the best chance at getting the gun to them fast.”

Monroe nodded and pulled out his phone. “I’m texting Rosalee and Juliette…Let them know they’re alive.”

“Okay,” Hank nodded, starting the car up.

\------------

Juliette was pacing around. She did not like being left behind. She knew that part of it was the number of wesen they may be dealing with, but the fact she was left behind irked her to no end when she wanted to do something, anything. Wesen were terrifying, she knew, but she’d held her own with big ones before she even knew what they were. Standing around doing nothing and letting her mind race and run wild with ideas of Nick (and Sloane) dying out in the woods like deer in the crosshairs.

“Juliette, it’ll be okay,” Rosalee said. “Nick and Sloane are not going down without a fight.”

“I know that,” she said. “But I just…I would rather be part of that fight! I’m tired of being on the sidelines!”

“I get it,” she said gently, standing to take her shoulders. “I don’t like staying behind either, but they need room for them in the car. And they’re not looking for a fight.”

“We never are, but it always happens,” she snapped. She winced and then sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m not…I shouldn’t be taking this out on you. It’s just…Even now that I know, sometimes I feel like I’m on the outside of things. Like I can’t understand Nick’s _world_. I get jealous of Sloane sometimes, how she understands things. Heck, I’m jealous of Trubel too. And you. I’m just someone who fell into this and no matter how hard I try I feel like I’m just…stuck.”

Rosalee frowned and gently hugged her. She wasn’t sure what to say and rubbed over the redhead’s back. “I…I can’t imagine how hard it must be, really. But Nick loves you and you love him. You _are_ part of his world.”

“It feels like he keeps trying to push me out…”

“He’s just worried. We all worry about you and even Hank—Kennen are a lot more vulnerable after all.”

“I guess…”

Rosalee’s phone buzzed she pulled away to grab it from the table and read the message out loud.

Monroe: _Nick managed to get to a fire tower! We know about where he is and the guys that took them, near Mosinee road in the woods. He and Sloane are alive right now._

Juliette breathed out and sat down, taking a few deep breaths in relief. The phone dinged again.

Monroe: _We’re going to check out if the one that took them is there. Then we’ll call in Renard and hopefully get them out of there._

Rosalee: _Okay, we’ll stay on standby._

Juliette sat for a moment, before grabbing her own phone. “I’m calling Renard now.”

“What? But they said they would—”

“Who knows what’s out there with them! And they all at the very least need to be arrested. Renard would know what to do and I trust him. Don’t you?”

“…About as much as I can,” Rosalee sighed, agreeing.

“Good, because we’ll be going with him too. I’m not standing around wringing my hands like some wife waiting for her husband to return from war.” She dialed and held it up to her ear. “Hi. This is Juliette Silverton, I need to speak with Captain Renard. No, only him, regarding something very important. He knows me.”

\----------------------------

A few minutes earlier, Nick had grabbed Sloane and hit the floor when he heard a rifle shot again. Sloane was startled and then felt a strange cramping in her chest and stomach when Nick held her close. When it was quiet again, he looked around. No windows were broken so it hadn’t been aimed inside. But the lightbulb above and the radio were now dark. “The generator…”

“Smart,” Sloane commented, sighing and releasing her old on his shirt. She tensed again when she saw a shadow on the wall. “Someone’s up here…”

Nick nodded and then they pushed away from each other, rolling and getting to the side away from the shadow. A fist shattered the window and they protected their eyes and face from glass falling over them. When a booted foot rested on the edge to try and come inside, Nick brought up the flair gun and fired right into him—a lowan it looked like. He screamed and stumbled back, going over the side of the rail as he tried to beat the fire out. Nick moved to look over but another shot rang out and splintered the ceiling near where he was and he quickly ducked back down.

“We still got that sharfblieke with a gun,” Sloane groaned. “Can’t tell which way or how far…And we’re potentially sitting ducks now.”

“Hank knows where we are, so back up is coming,” he said, reloading the flair gun. “I got one more of these too, so maybe we should get to the ground.” Another shot came through and they flinched as it landed in the wall.

“We don’t know how many more shots she has,” Sloane pointed out. “But I think she’s firing up…there’s not a lot of trees she could climb close enough.”

“But she’s good enough to hit the generator.”

“So don’t stand up,” Sloane nodded, moving low across the floor. Nick followed and then they both quickly moved through the door and started down the stairs. Two more shots fired and lodged in the frame of the tower before they jumped the last few steps and rushed for the trees. They ran for as long as they could before stopping and Sloane leaned against a tree.

“You okay?” Nick asked, trying to catch his breath. She looked better than when shew as bleeding, but still pale.

“Yeah…just hoping the others can still find us and not get hurt in the process,” she sighed.

He nodded, looking up towards the trees. “I think we’re heading east again…if we keep heading this way we’ll be back where we started.”

“Not sure if that’s good or bad at this point, but it’s frustrating regardless…”

“Yeah…What do you think we should—” He turned and his eyes widened when he saw the man from the garage, woged with his huge snapping turtle jaws wide going slowly for Sloane’s throat after coming around the tree silently. Nick grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled as hard as he could to get her over to him, wincing at the audible _clack_ of his jaws when he snapped the air where her neck was a moment before. He had no doubt that would’ve cut her skin, maybe cracked her neck.

Sloane had gasped at the tug but then quickly looked over and stood with Nick. “How the hell?!”

He rumbled and changed back. “Used to be special forces. Learned how to walk quietly over the years, even in places like this.”

“Good for you,” Sloane said, moving her arm back to grasp the knife hilt.

“Very good for me,” he said, taking a limping step forward. “I want to do a lot of damage to you, bitch. My knee is pretty messed up thanks to you. Took me this long just to get here!”

“Not her fault, you attacked her,” Nick said, also sizing him up.

“Well, lets try it again. This time maybe I’ll bite her leg off.” He woged again and roared as he rushed for them. Nick and Sloane split quickly and he of course went after her, trying to grab her in his green, scaly claws. Sloane brought the knife up but he managed to dodge back. He was slow moving, but quick to react. She tried to slash him again, but only just grazed him as he moved around. “Where’d you get that from?” He laughed, taunting her. “Going to need to do better than that to get me!”

Nick grabbed the scissors from his own belt and rushed up behind, planting them in the man’s shoulder. Powell screamed and then back handed Sloane when she moved for him, making her stumble at the strength of the blow. He then turned, seething. Nick quickly grabbed up a stick but Powell already lunged and pinned him to the ground . “I’m going to bite you into little bite sized chunks and feed you to the pigs!”

Ryker was booking it through the trees, trying to follow the directions to get to the tower. Pausing, he leaned against a tree and breathed deeply, trying to calm his heart and get his bearings. He jumped when he heard the sound of rifleshots in the distance and whined, debating if he could get away to somewhere else. But no car meant he was miles out in the middle of the woods, alone, and potentially going to be killed by Demitro’s men or the Grimms and their friends if he messed this up. Groaning, he kept moving towards the watch tower.

He paused when he heard someone moving up ahead and froze when he saw Powell limping through the brush. He shrank back and swallowed and sat down to try and keep his heart from popping out of his chest. When he heard the sounds of a struggle not too far off though, he stood and moved towards it cautiously. Powell was tussling with the Grimms! One drove scissors into his shoulder and in his rage he struck the woman and tackled the man. The man had grabbed a stick and after a threat, Powell moved to try and rip a chunk of his shoulder out. Nick got the stick he’d grabbed in his mouth instead, trying to push him away, but with a crack Powell bit straight through, spitting out splinters of wood to clear his mouth for another try. The woman was getting back up and, looking much more terrifying than Powell did even woged, grabbed Powell around the throat, hauling him away before he could bite the other Grimm. Powell was working to shake her off, then driving her into a tree with his back to try and make her let go but she was still holding onto him tightly. Ryker knew she would kill him with her bare hands if she had to and fear rooted him to the spot. How would she react seeing _him_?

The man—Nick—grabbed the knife that had dropped from her hand and then in one fluid movement brought it into Powell’s chest. He gasped and changed back to his human form, eyes wide with shock and hatred before Nick pulled it out and Powell dropped to his knees. Sloane let go cautiously and he fell forward, bleeding out in a matter of seconds.

Sloane panted, hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. “God, even my hunts in the past didn’t last this long…” She straightened and just his luck, Ryker was right in her field of vision. She was surprised a moment, then her eyes narrowed. “_You_?!”

Ryker held up his hands as the other Grimm turned to him. “W-wait, I’m here to help!”

“Oh yeah? Big help you were just now,” she spat.

“Uh…you two seemed to have it covered?” he said with a wane smile.

Nick put a hand on Sloane’s shoulder to stop her from moving forward and possibly turning him into a throw rug. “How did you get here and how can you help us?”

Ryker swallowed, slowly stepping towards them. “Y-you’re friends—the cop and the blutbad and…everyone else. They’re here to rescue you, remember? They sent me ahead with this!” He pulled out the gun and Nick quickly grabbed his hand and pointed it away from him and Sloane before taking it out of his grip.

“Careful with that!”

“Sorry…”

“That would’ve also come in handy just now,” Sloane ground out. Nick didn’t argue with that, checking over the gun and glad to see it was fully loaded.

“Uh, well…Like I said, I wasn’t sure when to, y’know, cut in?” he said, trying to look pathetic enough they wouldn’t kill him. “So, um, I can take you back to the road now, get back to that car and get the hell out of dodge?”

Sloane still looked at him like she was ready to hurt him but she sighed and looked at Nick. “What do you think?”

“Well, the gun is real because it’s yours I’m pretty sure,” Nick said. “Hank said he got this guy to help so I’m guessing he gave it to him.”

“Well, you can’t give me crap for leaving it locked at the precinct anymore.”

Nick rolled his eyes and put the gun in his waist band with the safety on. He pulled out the flare gun and looked at it considerately.

“I’ll take it,” Sloane said, holding out her hand. “It might come in handy for a signal or distraction.”

Nick nodded and handed it to her before looking at Ryker. “Did Hank say they’d wait at the road?”

“Uh…not exactly…”

“What does that mean?” Sloane asked.

“They said they were going to check out where Demitro should be—but they’d pick us up on the way back.”

The Grimms looked at one another again and Ryker wondered if they could communicate telepathically for a moment before they spoke. “I’d rather go meet them there,” she said.

“I agree,” Nick said.

“What? NO! They said-” he started, alarmed and terrified.

“The road’s too open without a car,” Nick said. “With little cover close to it too, we’d be mostly sitting ducks for that sniper, or if there are any other would be hunters out here.”

Sloane smiled. “Right on all accounts. Also, Demitro has some of our stuff and I’m getting it back.”

Nick smiled back but Ryker was looking between the two of them. “You’re both insane…Grimms are insane!”

“Maybe, but do you want to come with us or be alone out here with irate wesen and a sniper?” she asked as she looked up through the trees at the sun. “This way is back towards him.” She and Nick started hiking through the woods.

“…I’m insane,” he whispered.

\----------------

Hank pulled up to just before the parking lot on the map and they got out. Trubel went to the back and got out a club that she’d taken from Sloane’s closet. “I would still appreciate a gun sometime…”

“Prove you can use those responsibly first,” Hank said, checking his own. “Let’s check this out and try not being seeing. Then I’ll radio Renard once we know they’re here.”

“I’m sure they are,” Monroe said. “I mean, you work to put this all together, you don’t stick around to see what’s going to happen?”

“You might be right but I’d rather make sure before getting him out here,” Hank nodded. “Just stay behind me for now, I’ll keep front.”

They nodded, following him towards where the parking area was, trying to keep among the sparse trees near the road. As they got closer they saw several men milling about, some in suits and some in more laborer-types sitting around, smoking. Hank pulled out a small pair of binoculars to look closer. About six guys that he could see, but there were blind spots. There was a food delivery truck parked nearby, which was odd, but odder still was the tent put up a little further up the way like an event was going on. There was a couple of big shuttle buses as well.

“I’m guessing that’s how they got the “hunters” here,” Hank said.

“Like a creepy field trip,” Monroe agreed.

“I don’t see any guns on them,” Hank said.

“Wesen mafia aren’t that into guns usually,” Monroe said. “Traditionally they rely more on their abilities or traits. Ryker said they hired a hitwoman with sniper skills though.”

“Yeah, but she’s after Nick and Sloane. Which is good for us but bad for them…”

“Lets get back and call Renard,” Hank said. “We’ll hold off going down until then.”

“Uh…Hank?” Monroe said. Hank turned his head from the binoculars and then frowned when he saw they were one short.

“Where is Trubel?” he snapped.

“I don’t know, she suddenly just wasn’t there!” Monroe hissed, trying to keep his voice down. “Sloane’s been teaching her to do that quiet walk she and Kelly can do.”

Hank cursed under her breath, turning back and scanning with his binoculars. Sure enough, he managed to spot her, sneaking her way through and over towards the tent. “Goddamit,” he growled. “What is she doing?!”

Trubel ducked behind the truck as a couple of the men passed by her. Luckily they were talking and didn’t look her way.

“…Get those guys out of there. Most of them are still alive?”

“Yeah, few broken bones but the Grimms didn’t kill them, at least not directly that I’ve seen. Then again, they didn’t have any weapons…”

“Doing all that with their bare hands and what they could find is scary enough—you saw what some of those guys were!”

“Yeah, good point…I guess unless you get the drop on them and drug them they might be a little tough. Marta might have her hands full.”

“Well that’s her problem now, I’m not gonna try it!”

Trubel was tempted to get the drop on them but waited until they moved away. Moving towards the tent, she crouched down low and then pulled the switch blade Sloane never asked for back from her boot, cutting a small hole in it and peaking inside. An older man was sitting at a table, counting through cash and humming to himself. He looked satisfied and it made Trubel angry that he was counting money he made by putting Sloane and Nick in danger like this.

“Mr. Demitro?”

“Yes?”

“Um…I tried to contact Powell and…he didn’t answer,” the man said.

Demitro sighed, putting another stack of cash into the box. “I’m not surprised. I told him to let it go and just recover and he would hopefully make a near full recovery. His pride did him in.” He turned and smiled. “Congratulations on your promotion, Mr. Webber.”

“Uh…th-thank you…what should we do about him?”

“If you can find him or his body bring him back. If he’s somehow alive, he’s fired. I don’t need someone that puts his pride before my work like that when I told him it was a stupid idea. If he’s dead, well, he’s got a brother I suppose we can send him back to.”

“Right…”

“Concerned, Webber?” he asked lightly.

“Ah, just…he was also your family, wasn’t he?”

“A cousin’s son,” he shrugged. “I gave him work because he was strong and usually good at following directions. That’s changed regardless of if he’s alive or dead. I’ll miss him but he made his own choices.”

Trubel glared more. She really didn’t like this guy. Glancing around, she saw Sloane and Nick’s wallets and keys on the table. She knew Nick was worried about Juliette, and Sloane would be worried about her she hoped but also her collection. Shifting, she moved around to where they would be more within reach, cutting another hole and trying to keep an eye out for anyone coming her way. Taking a breath, she reached her hand through to grab the wallets, but the moment she did they slipped from her hand and landed with the keys with a thump.

“What was that?” Demitro said, turning. He woged into a snapping turtle form, rumbling low. Trubel tried to move her hand back but his scaled, clawed hand grabbed her wrist. “What do we have here? A theif?”

Trubel gritted her teeth and then slashed a bigger hole with the knife using an upward slice, bringing the knife down into Demitro’s wrist. He yelled and she quickly pulled it back and moved to run for it.

The man with Demitro woged into a hundjager and moved for her and she brought the club around to knock him out and quickly ran around to juke them.

Hank cursed again and moved down, Monroe following. “Freeze, everyone down!”

A few paused to look at him and his gun and Demitro stepped out, unwoged now. “What the hell is going on?”

“We’re here for our friends!” Monroe said.

“Friends? I don’t know what you mean,” he said, smiling. “We’re just here having a little workplace meeting.”

“I’m not here to listen to your crap,” Hank said, leveling the gun on him while Monroe watched his back. “We’re here for Nick and Sloane, the Grimms. We’re taking them home and then you’re going to be raided by the police real soon.”

Demitro smiled, not looking intimidated. “And what are they going to do?”

“Arrest you, if you’re lucky,” Hank went on. “Kidnapping police officers, attempted murder, accessory to murder at the very least for everyone here depending on how many are alive or dead…and I’m sure a lot of other stuff regardless of being wesen related or not.”

Demitro narrowed his eyes. “…Well…we best be going now.”

That was apparently a signal as the men scrambled to try and get to the vehicles. When they tried to start them however, they wouldn’t turn over. “Boss, something’s wrong!”

“What he hell do you mean?” he snapped.

“Hey!” There was a shout and Ryker ran out around the side of one car.

“Sorry! They made me do it!”

“He pulled the fuses out of the truck!” the henchman yelled. “That’s why they won’t start!”

“Well, in my defense, you all left them unlocked!” he said, scrambling over to Hank and the others quickly. Hank pointed his gun at the wesen pursuing and they paused.

“What are you doing here?” Monroe whispered. “Where’s Nick and Sloane?”

Ryker pointed rather than answer, and they all jumped when the burst out of the tent. Sloane had both her own knife and the one she found at the fire tower in her hands, dual wielding them to slice and incapacitate anyone in her path. When the wesen woged and moved to attack anyone available, all hell broke loose. Monroe woged and started clubbing, biting and clawing. Trubel managed to keep the fangs away from her throat from a Lausenschlange, striking with her elbow right into the bridge of his nose and then follow through again. Hank was trying not to kill anyone, but a few shots were fired into thighs and other extremities.

Demitro turned and ran for the woods. Sloane saw and took off after him before the others could stop her. Ryker, not wanting to be in the middle of the fight, followed her instead to see what would happen.

Being a bit older, and a bit prone to having others do his dirty work, Demitro couldn’t run for long. He tensed when Sloane came up behind him and turned. “Y…You’ve won, alright?”

Sloane glared. “Oh…I haven’t won anything yet.”

“Y-you want money?” he said, backing away as she advanced on him. “I can give you what came in.”

“I don’t need money. See, you made a threat earlier. About knowing where we live and all that?”

“That was just a threat. I can’t remember that off the top of my head, really,” he laughed.

“…For a man ready to let a bunch of people die for your own gain, you really are a coward,” she said, disgusted.

“Yes, well…” he shifted a bit and she kept her eyes on him. “I’m a businessman first and foremost. I make the plans for others to follow. And admittedly this didn’t turn out quite as I expected…But are you are really going to kill me? You are a cop after all.”

“You didn’t kidnap a cop. You kidnapped a Grimm.”

He licked his lips a bit. “Yes, I suppose so…” He glanced behind her and Sloane realized something was wrong a moment too late. She was turning, spotting Marta aiming her rifle at her just through the trees behind her a moment too late. Then she felt something slam into her, and pin her down. The rifle fired and she held her breath, but there was no pain. But she did hear a gasp like a someone was trying desperately to draw in air. Looking over, Demitro was slowly leaking blood through his chest and his eyes rolled back as he fell to the forest floor. Ryker rolled off her as the rifle reloaded and Sloane stood up.

“Get to cover!”

He didn’t need to be told twice, rushing behind a tree. Sloane moved as well, managed to dodge the next shot. “You think you can beat me here?” Marta asked. “I already got you once.”

“Yeah, your aim kind of sucks,” Sloane cajoled. She flinched as another shit fired past her, sending a spray of bark off of the tree she was hiding behind.

There was the sound then of sirens coming that distracted them both. “What the hell?”

“Cavalry is here,” Sloane said, smiling in relief.

“Well, I’m still going to kill you!”

Sloane heard her footsteps coming and moved around the tree, throwing the extra knife at her. She dodged it and tried to fire at Sloane as she was running.

Nick heard the shots and once the sirens were close the rest of the wesen finally stopped fighting and got on their knees or tried to run. “I gotta get Sloane!”

“Nick!” Hank yelled, watching him rush for the trees. He saw Sloane in the distance, moving between the trees for cover. He saw Demitro’s body as well. When Sloane came around another tree, Marta was there suddenly swung her rifle hard into her head. Sloane went down, stunned by the blow, and Marta moved to stand over her prone body, aiming the rifle. Nick glared and took aim.

“Any last words, Grimm?”

Sloane shakily herself up, but then suddenly flopped onto her back, the flare gun in hand. She pulled the trigger and Marta screamed as it hit her in the face. Then she surged up and drove her knife into her stomach. Nick put the gun down in shock, not having expected that. Neither had Marta as she stumbled back. She woged briefly, giving a whining trill of a hawk, before changing back and falling to the forest floor, burns all over her face.

Sloane sighed and laid back down. “Sloane!” Nick rushed over and she looked up. “You okay?”

“I…am tired,” she sighed.

Nick smiled and offered his hand. “You are also badass.”

“Well yeah,” she said, smiling and taking his hand. He hauled her up and they started back up towards the parking area, where they could see flashing lights now.

“Uh…should I come too?” Ryker said, peeking out from a tree.

Sloane narrowed her eyes but then sighed, motioning with her hand. “You saved my life so…yeah. C’mon, we’re even. Ish.”

Ryker smiled in relief, heading over where the police were rounding up all the wesen for arrests. They hanged back among the trees though, with Monroe who didn’t exactly want to be seen just then. When the captain spotted Hank though, he waved him over and he sighed as he joined them in the tree line away from the arresting frenzy.

“There you are!” Renard said.

“Hey…how’d you get here?” Nick asked.

“I called him!” Juliette said, rushing over and hugging him. “And I swear, NONE of you are leaving me behind again!”

“Hey, kind of good we did this time,” Monroe said.

“Yeah,” Hank sighed. “I was so worried this would be a blood bath I guess I should’ve just called you from the start…”

“Yes, you should have,” Renard said. “Where’s Myron Demitro?”

“Uh…dead. With a sniper bullet. The sniper is also dead,” Sloane said.

“Another bullet?”

“No, flare gun and knife.”

Renard sighed, rubbing his eyes a little. “I’ve been trying to pin him down for over a year…and now I’m not sure how to explain this.”

“Well, he knew where we live, so I’m not broken up about it,” Nick said. “Plus, the whole hunting us in the woods thing.”

“Yeah, you’ll think of something,” Sloane said with a grin.

The captain sighed but looked them over. “You two okay?”

“Tired, hungry, lost some blood…nothing I’m not used to.”

“Well, I’d rather we get checked out,” Nick said.

“Agreed,” Rosalee said, looking Sloane over. “You have sutures?!”

“Nick did them,” she smiled. “Not too shabby.”

“Maybe I should’ve been a doctor,” Nick joked.

Hank smiled as well, ruffling his hair. “Might be less stress at this point.

“Yeah, but you’d miss us,” Monroe said.

Nick smiled and looked at Renard. “Sooo…how are we going to do this?”

Renard looked back where more cop cars were starting to arrive. “…I told them it was a tip off regarding a “survival” game Demitro started. They haven’t seen you or your car yet I’m pretty sure.”

“We parked it around the other trees,” Hank nodded.

“Good. Get to it, get out of here. We’ll go with it being a “game” that got out of hand, got him and a few others killed. Survivors still here can’t say that they were hunting Grimms or police officers after all. Did anyone else know your names?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Nick said. “Demitro said he kept it a secret and the way he put it…I believed him.”

“Yeah,” Sloane sighed. “So I think we’re safe for now…”

“Good. Then get going,” he ordered.

“This way,” Monroe said. “I can find the car going through the woods.”

The nodded and followed him as Renard started barking orders.

\---------------

It was a tight fit to the cars until they got back to the Extra Mile where Nick and Sloane could get their cars. Juliette and Rosalee had followed Renard despite his efforts to dissuade them, but he’d managed to get them out without questions. They got to the shop and got back around, checking to be sure everything was where it needed to be.

“I…I know it’s probably not enough, but I want to say I am really sorry,” he said, looking at Sloane and Nick nervously.

“You should be,” Juliette said, crossing her arms. The others all nodded and he hunkered down under their stares.

It was actually, to their surprise, Sloane that sighed. “Well, you did save me from being shot…so I guess I’ll let it go. This time.”

“I…really?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah. But you better keep out of trouble,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

“No, yeah, I will! Um, tell Mr. Wurstner I’ll bring his truck by later—it’s done aside from being washed…which I owe him a detail with the works.”

“Yeah you do,” she said, smiling a little. The others relaxed slightly. If the most Grimm of them could forgive they could let it slide.

“You going to see Mr. Wiltshire?” Hank asked.

Ryker looked at the shop, which was still open, but sighed. “I’ll…try emailing him first. I don’t think he’d want to see me right now…”

“Eh, maybe not…but at least let him know you did help us.”

“Yeah, you did the right thing in the end,” Rosalee said.

Ryker smiled and looked over at Sloane and Nick. “You guys…really aren’t what I expected…”

Nick smiled. “Yeah, we get that a lot.”

“What are you going to do now though?” Monroe asked, a touch suspicious.

He took a breath and rubbed over the back of his head. “Not sure, exactly…Looking for a new job I guess. And making sure I don’t get myself into trouble again—or anyone else.”

“Good plan,” Hank nodded. “Good luck with that. Or do you need that as a hare?”

“That’s…you know what, close enough,” he said throwing up his hands. “Don’t take this the wrong way, kind of hope we don’t meet again.”

“Feelings mutual,” Sloane said. “Again, don’t do anything dumb and it might just be possible.”

Ryker smiled a little and headed for his truck where they’d left it up the street.

“I want to go home and have like…the biggest pizza possible,” Nick said. “Or pasta. Maybe both. I need carbs.”

“Mmm, carbs,” Sloane agreed. “Honestly though, I might like to shower and change first. I smell awful.”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to say anything but…You both smell like sweat, blood, weirdly like a medicine cabinet,” Monroe said.

“Probably the iodine and peroxide,” Nick sighed. “Why don’t you wash up at our place? You can let Trubel drive, rest up.”

“Yeah,” Trubel said, smiling a little.

Sloane pursed her lips but sighed and held out her keys. “Yeah, okay. I’ve got spare clothes in the car and I am honestly feeling tired as hell.”

Trubel took the keys and they split up the cars again, driving towards Nick’s house. Sloane rinsed her wound with some saline again, then wrapped it in saran wrap Juliette got her to avoid getting it wet. She paused and thought about Nick carefully stitching her up, concentrating hard to do it right and saying sorry at ever little flinch her gasp she gave. She smiled a little and for a brief moment she thought she might just let it scar over and keep it. Then she shook her head, confused. _What the hell? No, the salve will get rid of the scar when I get home. Why would I keep the scar? I’m probably way too anemic still. Pizza’s coming, I’ll be thinking properly later. _Climbing into the shower, she sighed as the warm water helped wash the grime of their adventure off. She’d brought her own soap and shampoo from her emergency stash in the car and washed the dirt, blood and other debris off. Once she was done, she toweled off and got her extra clothes on, coming down the stairs. “Shower’s free.”

“Awesome,” Nick sighed, heading up past her. “Pizza has been ordered as well. Meat lovers; chicken, spinach and garlic; and vegan margarita.”

“Awesome. Too bad we don’t have stuff to BBQ, I’m probably going to have to burn these clothes,” she sighed.

“Yeah, that’s why I asked Nick not to sit on the couch and stay in here,” Juliette said, grabbing a plastic bag and holding it open for her. Sloane dropped them in, then took it and tied the ends. “I’d like to not smell death on our couch.”

“Can’t say I blame you.”

“Do you think there’s going to be a problem in the investigation?” Monroe asked.

“No, Renard said he’d take care of it after all,” Rosalee said. “He’s complicated, but I don’t think he’d want Sloane or Nick tied up in this.”

“Probably so he can use us later,” Sloane said. Monroe nodded, feeling that was true.

“You guys do trust this guy, right?” Trubel asked, confused.

They all looked thoughtful, Monroe wavering his hand before finally nodding. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy deep down,” Juliette finally said.

“Yeah. It’s that royal blood and hexenbeast blood dueling that make him ‘complicated’,” Monroe said. “Like that two wolves thing—only not as cool as wolves and both of them are kind of assholes.”

They laughed at that and the tension that had been swimming around them finally started to melt. The pizza came just after Nick was finished cleaning up and they ate as they finally recounted all of that day’s trials. It was going to be okay. At least for a little while.

\-----------

It was just a few days later they were back at Nick and Juliette’s, having a dinner to discuss the wedding. A large pot of spaghetti was made, Sloane’s arm was looking a lot better, and Trubel was actually being somewhat sociable even if it was mostly sitting at the table listening to them talk.

“Papa Haydn's all set with the cake, by the way,” Juliette said.

“Great,” Rosalee said. “And you have the playlist for the reception?”

“Got it,” Sloane said. “And the place cards are ready. They just need to be picked up.”

“Oh. I'll do that.”

“No, I got it. I gotta check with the flower guys again anyway. You may have to get another florist he tries anything like trying to sell me purple heather and call it lavender again,” she said, pouring out tea. “And I mean that because I will put him in traction. But he should have the white and lavender roses, lavender, and fern fronds ready, I just want to double check.”

“Wow. You're doing all that for me?” Rosalee asked with a smile.

“Full-service maid of honor,” Monroe joked.

“Nah, Juliette’s been a huge help,” she said, taking the tray out to the table while they got the rest of the food ready. “I’m good at making sure people do things and glaring at them, but she knows what actually needs to be done for a wedding. I admit, I was woefully unprepared and there may have been no wedding without her.” Juliette smiled proudly and blushed at the compliment.

“Wait a minute, what about the groom?” Monore asked with a smile. “Don't you need me?”

“Oh, for certain things,” Rosalee smiled.

“Guys have it easy,” Juliette said. “All Nick has to do is not lose the ring and make a speech.”

“What ring? What speech?” Nick asked, feigning wide-eyed confusion. They looked at him and he smiled. “Yeah, yeah, I got the ring.”

“And what about the toast?” she asked.

“It's getting there,” he said, not saying where it was at that particular moment.

“It better be there by Saturday.”

“Saturday. This Saturday?” he asked, wide-eyed again. They all gave him flat looks and he smiled as he grabbed the salad. “Nobody gets me.”

“Yeah, no, we get you,” Sloane said, rolling her eyes a little.

“Is dinner ready?” Trubel asked, barely not whining.

“It is. Turn your chair around and it’ll be ready,” Sloane said, motioning with her fingers for her to sit facing the table properly and not backwards. She rolled her eyes but turned the chair around and sat.

“You like spaghetti?” Juliette asked, setting the big bowl down.

“No. I love spaghetti,” Trubel said, smiling at the food.

“Then let's eat,” Nick smiled. They served themselves, everyone noting but not commenting on the size of Trubel’s portions as she piled the pasta on her plate. More could be made.

“Can I say something, Trubel?” Rosalee asked after a moment.

“Uh-huh,” she said, mouth full of pasta.

“I know I don't really know much about you. But I'd like to say that I think you're doing a pretty good job handling this, considering how incredibly difficult this must have been,” she said honestly. “And your help with getting Nick and Sloane back was definitely appreciated.”

“Well…I really didn't expect to live this long,” Trubel said honestly. It was a little quiet after that as they ate and she polished off her huge serving shockingly quick.

“Do you want more?” Juliette asked.

Trubel hesitated but, licking her lips but then nodded. “Sure.” She moved to stand with her plate but Juliette stopped her.

“No, stay. I got it.” She took the plate and headed for the kitchen.

“So…do you remember the first time you saw a wesen?” Rosalee asked.

Trubel hesitated, looking a little haunted but nodded slowly. “Yeah, I remember. It was in one of the foster homes I grew up in.”

Rosalee nodded. “I was 13 when I found out I was a Fuchsbau.”

“You didn't know?” she asked, confused.

“You don't really know when you're a kid,” Monroe said, Rosalee nodding. “Kind of hits you later.”

“But at least we had family to tell us what was going on. You really didn't have anyone to help you through this?” She shook her head. “When did you find out?”

“Um...” She hesitated, taking a deep breath. “There was this guy that used to fix things around the house. He was always really nice to me, till, uh...One day he asked me to help him in the garage.” Rosalee tensed a little, glancing at Sloane who was listening intently. She recognized the look in her eyes, one of being acutely aware and ready to track someone down. “And he grabbed me. I saw his face change. And, um...He pushed me down on the floor. But I was so scared by what I saw, that I just grabbed the first thing I could, which was a-a screwdriver.” She flexed her hand at the memory. “And really all I wanted to do was just push him away from me, but, um...He didn't die... Or anything.” She glanced around, maybe worried what they’d think.

“Pity,” Sloane murmured. Juliette walked back in slowly, absorbing it all as well.

“He just... he did get off me really fast, though. And that was the first time I heard anybody say "Grimm." I-I told everybody what I saw. And that was the first time they locked me up. Said I was lying. And then when I said I wasn't, they said I had to be crazy so...Yeah, I got pretty used to being crazy. Until I met all you guys,” she smiled, looking at them. “I realized I wasn't alone.”

They smiled back and Sloane put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

Trubel smiled a bit more then looked at Juliette. “Can I have that now?”

Juliette chuckled and set the plate down in front of her. “Yeah, sorry.” The home phone rang just then and she turned to head back to the kitchen counter near the doorway. “I got it. Hello?...Yeah, can I tell him who's calling?” She frowned in confusion but then looked to Nick, holding out the phone. “He says you won't know him, but he needs to talk to you.”

Nick wiped his mouth and stood to take the phone to his ear. “This is Nick Burkhardt. Who is this?...If there's a problem, I need to know who you are.” He listened and then frowned more as well before hanging up and putting the phone in it’s cradle.

“What, he didn't want to give you his name?” Sloane asked.

“I get calls like that sometimes,” Nick sighed. “They get cold feet. It's probably nothing.”

\-----------------

Juliette arrived at Sloane’s house the next morning early before work. She noted with a bit of surprise there was some plants on the front porch in plastic pots, as if they’d just been bought from the garden center. Despite her anger at the alleged deception by the florist, she knew one was purple heather, and then there were some ferns and packs of bulbs—Dahlias in various hues of red and purple. And one rosebush of some sort. Sloane opened the door and smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey. Going to do some gardening?”

Sloane blushed a bit smiled. “I’m going to try. My grandmother used to have a garden, one of those English types, and I’ve actually got a back and front yard I keep forgetting so…”

“It’s going to be pretty.”

“I hope so. Will probably ask Lucretia for some advice; I haven’t tried to grow anything in a long time.”

“I’d be happy to help too, maybe it’ll get me to do something at our house. Speaking of which, here is my bike,” she patted the seat. “I figured Trubel could use it if she wanted to get around a few places.”

“Oh, sweet! She’s inside looking over some things. Want some tea or coffee? I’ve got hot water brewing and a pot of coffee already made.”

“I would love some honestly, I didn’t have time to make any.”

“Okay. Head on in, I’ll put this in the garage for safe keeping and get you coffee and the order slip.” Sloane turned the bike around and headed for the garage. Juliette walked in, noting with a smile there were more things decorating the walls. Nothing like what you would find at a Homegoods or the like, but there were some masks from Asia, a few antique weapons, map of the world that looked old and well-worn framed above the couch, etc. Sloane had mentioned she’d started going through her grandmother’s things again as well as things she’d had in storage over at her old home—souvenirs she never admitted to buying back during her travels but had sent home under the guise of a “Flight Attendant” for her Aunts to put away. They had sent them back to her at her request and she’d finally put them up. There were pictures too—some of her grandmother which must’ve been hard to put up, and some of them surprisingly. It made Juliette smile that she had finally, really claimed the house as hers.

Trubel was sitting in a leather armchair by the window, looking through a book and toying with a chess piece—a black knight. She looked up and nodded. “Oh, hi.”

“Hey. What you got there?”

“Uh, just one of Sloane’s books,” she held up the leather journal, then a simple cardboard one. “I’m copying a few things down for ones I’ve seen before.”

“Well, great you’re learning,” Juliette said, a little awkwardly. “Um, so…I brought my bike over for you. Nice way to get out and see the neighborhood.”

“Thanks, that sounds cool,” she nodded, though she glanced back down at the book and thumbed over the knight again.

“Do you like to play chess?”

Trubel blinked and then flushed a bit. “Uh, not really…”

Juliette smiled gently. “I'm just curious. Why do you carry that around with you?”

Trubel closed the book and looked at the piece. “I like the way it moves. You know, different than any other piece.”

“Well, what about the queen? She can move any way she wants,” Juliette pointed out, sitting in the other chair. She heard the door in the kitchen open and saw Sloane come in and go to the coffee pot to pour them some drinks.

“Oh, I like the queen,” Trubel said, smiling. “She saved my life once.”

Juliette was surprised. “How?”

“Uh, I jammed her into a Coyotl's... is that how you pronounce it?” Juliette nodded. “Anyway, I jammed her into a Coyotl's neck when he attacked. We were playing chess at the Milford state mental hospital. They were not happy with me for that,” she finished ruefully but not exactly ashamed.

Juliette felt a pang of sympathy—Trubel had a hard life, a different sort from Sloane. She was just starting to open up like Sloane as well. But she wanted to really make her comfortable—give her something good after all the bullshit she’d gone through just trying to live. “…Hey, how about when I get off work, today, I take you shopping for new clothes? My treat.”

Trubel was surprised but shook her head a little. “No, I don't think that's a good idea…”

“Why?”

“Because I don't wanna get used to all this,” she said quietly. Sloane was coming over with three mugs, handing them out.

“I think it would be good.”

“Really?” Trubel asked, surprised.

“Look, I did the whole lone hunter thing for a while and even if this doesn’t last…get happiness where you can,” she said. “It helps to remind you why we do what we do.”

“…Okay,” she nodded.

Sloane smiled then handed a piece of paper to Juliette. “Here’s the order slip for the printers. Thanks for grabbing them.”

“Of course! I’ll grab them at lunch.”

\------------------

That afternoon, Trubel decided to bike around and see how long it would take to get to Nick’s house. It seemed like a good thing to know, in case she needed to get to them on her own. It was about half an hour since she could cut through a park and didn’t have to worry about traffic lights. When she pulled up though, she saw an unfamiliar car parked in front and frowned. She frowned deeper when she saw a man looking through the windows.

“Hey!” He jumped, turning to her. He was in early to mid thirties with sandy hair and didn’t really look the criminal type. “Can I help you?”

“Uh…maybe? Is this where Nick Burkhardt lives?” he asked, uncertain.

“Maybe,” she said, sizing him up as she walked the bike over. “Who wants to know?”

“My name’s Josh and I need to talk to him. Well, my dad needs to—wants to talk to him,” he amended. “He made me drive all the way from Pennsylvania just to do it.”

“About…?” she asked, still not trusting him.

He paused but pulled a piece of paper that was old and parchment looking out of his jacket. “My father told me to show him this…” Trubel cautiously stepped forward after setting the bike against the front steps, eying the paper. She was surprised when she saw it was a page from a Grimm journal of all things! He took her shocked silence as her not being interested though and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, this was a waste of time. I’ll tell him I tried and you all can just ” He moved to walk down the steps past her and back to his car, but Trubel caught his arm.

“Let me see that,” she said. He blinked but held up the paper, letting her take it. “…Did your dad draw this?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t know who drew it. He’s just had it forever.”

“This is a Hundjager,” she said, scanning the picture and the text once more.

“You know what it is?” he asked incredulously.

“You don’t?”

He shook his head quickly, unsure now. “No…”

“Does your dad?”

He sighed, looking put out. “He thinks he knows what it is.”

Trubel looked at the picture again, weighting her options before pulling out her phone. “I’ll call Nick.”

\-------------

Sloane, Nick and Hank had been called into Renard’s office to discuss a case. By that he meant discuss a Grimm issue of course, though it did also count as a sort of case, just not _theirs_.

“We had a murder last night. Holtby and Bauer caught it,” he said, opening a file folder. “But this came to my attention.” He pulled a photograph out and set it on the desk in front of them. It was of the victim’s hand with a tattoo. The two diamonds end to end was familiar, but instead of just simple lines it was made with interlayered swords with an sword in the center wrapped in a looped ribbon under the pommel and crossing in front over the blade.

“Looks like Verrat,” Nick said.

“Only different,” Renard confirmed. “That's Verrat Ahnenerbe. Special section "D", tasked with finding anything involving rare objects, the occult, and the supernatural.”

“Royal relic hunters?” Sloane asked, taking the photo from Nick.

“Essentially, yes.”

“So what are they doing in that hotel room?” Nick asked.

“The room was registered to Rolek Porter,” Renard went on. “He's been traveling with his son Josh. Home address is listed in Pennsylvania. We have an APB out on the car: A '92 Volvo Station Wagon.”

“Porter have a record?” Hank asked.

“None that we could find. At least none under that name. Fingerprints have turned up nothing.”

“So why do we have a dead special section's Verrat agent in his hotel room?” Nick sighed.

“Well, there's more.” Renard pulled out security photos of an older gentleman and a younger gentleman pushing a larger steamer trunk through a doorway. “Now these are stills taken from the surveillance footage outside the hotel. According to the hotel, that's Rolek Porter, and that's his son Josh.”

“What's in the trunk? The holy grail?” Hank joked.

“What does it say about me my first thought was another dead body?” Sloane asked.

“Nothing we didn’t already know.”

“Joking aside, its probably the reason the Verrat agent was in that room,” Renard said seriously. “I wanna find Rolek and his son before Holtby and Bauer do. I don't want them in the system until we know what's in that trunk.”

“Well, there's got to be more than one Verrat,” Nick said, nodding to Sloane. “They never send just one.”

“No, they don't. This was taken four minutes after they left the hotel.” He dropped down a final picture, this time of a familiar face walking through the hotel lobby. “Look familiar?”

“Weston Steward,” Sloane sighed.

“So our rogue FBI agent is still in Portland,” Hank agreed, troubled.

“Yeah. I'd like to find him too,” Renard said, sounding like an order.

While they were speaking and planning, neither Sloane or Nick heard their phones buzzing on their desks from Renard’s office.

Trubel sighed. “Nick and Sloane aren’t picking up…”

“Well, thanks for trying,” Josh sighed. “Look, I'm sorry. I gotta get back to my father.” He moved to take the page from her but she pulled it back out of his reach.

“You said your dad saw one of these.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he's seen a lot of things.”

“Does he have more drawings like this?”

“Yeah. A whole trunk full,” he shrugged. Trubel’s eyes widened, mind racing over there being someone with a trunk full of Grimm books and maybe more looking for Nick. This didn’t seem like something they should pass up. “Look, I gotta go.”

Trubel looked at him and felt herself a bit annoyed. This man acted like this was nonsense, like his father was crazy, and it hit a nerve. “You don't have a clue, do you?” She enjoyed the certainty she felt now that she wasn’t crazy and the surprise on his face.

“What?”

“Does your dad know Nick's a Grimm?”

“Yeah, he said something like that, but...” he said, unsure. “You know what that is?”

Trubel grabbed the bike, putting it on the porch for safe keeping. “I'm going with you.”

“Hold on, why should I take you?”

“Because right now you're dealing with a Hundjager, and you don't know it. And I'm the only one that can help you.” It was satisfying to say that too, though she knew Sloane and Nick might not be too amused.

“Who are you?” he asked, looking at her like she was leading him down the road to hell.

“Just call me Trubel. Let's go.” She turned to head to the car and looked back impatiently. “Come on, let's go.” Josh sighed but finally joined her at his car.

\----------------

At the precinct in the afternoon, the trio were watching the security footage from the hotel Renard was able to send to them. They watched the old man with a cane and his son haul the chest out the back door.

“Whatever's in that trunk has gotta be pretty important,” Hank said.

“Yeah,” Nick agreed. “They killed a guy in their hotel room and didn't want to leave it behind…”

Sloane heard her phone buzz and walked over to pick it up. It was a number she didn’t recognize but she answered it anyway. “Larson.”

“Sloane, it's me,” Trubel said. “I'm at St. Joseph's hospital.”

Sloane tensed. “What? Why? What's wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, but…you remember that call Nick got the other night?”

“Uh…the odd one? Yeah,” she glanced at Nick who was looking at her curiously.

“The guy showed up with a drawing of a Hundjager. His name is Josh. Not the Hundjager, the guy that showed up. I couldn't get ahold of you or Nick so he took me to his dad who's sick. We had to take him to the hospital. And get this: He's a Grimm!”

“Wait, Trubel, slow down,” Sloane said, she was gesturing at Nick and Hank to follow her out to the hall where it was relatively deserted for once. “So let me get this straight and relay it to Nick and Hank before I put you on speaker: The guy that called last night came to my house—”

“No, Nick’s house. I rode the bike over there.”

“Okay, Nick’s house, with a drawing of a hundjager and his name is Josh and he’s a Grimm? On speaker now!” She quickly hit the speaker button.

“No! Josh’s dad is a Grimm. He’s got a trunk full of weapons and Grimm books. And his son thinks he's crazy, so he has nobody to talk to... it's kind of like me... except he knows who he is. And this big trunk has been in the family for a really long time. And now that he's dying, he wants Nick to have it.”

“Okay, hold on,” Nick said quickly. “This guy's a Grimm. Are you sure?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with clear certainty. “It's kinda weird, isn't it? All four of us in the same place at the same time? Except he was looking for you, Nick. He doesn’t know about Sloane I don’t think, I wasn’t sure what to tell him. But he really wants to see you, Nick. He drove all the way from Pennsylvania. Oh, and he wanted me to tell you he has a key?”

Sloane and Nick looked up at each other in surprise and then back to her phone. “A key? What kind of key?”

“I don't know. He just wanted to make sure I told you. Like it was really important, like...Like you were supposed to know.”

“Wait a minute. What's this Grimm’s name?” Sloane asked.

“Rolek.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “Rolek Porter?”

“I don't know his last name.”

“And the son's name is Josh?”

“Yeah.”

“Are they driving a Volvo?” Hank asked.

Trubel sounded surprised. “How'd you know that?”

“Where's the car?” he asked instead.

“It's in the emergency parking lot.”

“Stay with the car. We'll meet you there in ten minutes.”

“Okay,” Trubel said. They hanged up and quickly grabbed their jackets and rushed out to their car to head for the hospital. When they arrived, they saw Trubel waiting by a volvo out in the parking lot and quickly pulled up with her.

“Make, model, and plates match,” Hank said, getting out for a closer look. Sloane and Nick followed.

“Is that the trunk?” Nick asked, going over to look at the large rectangular shape that took up most of the trunk space with a white sheet draped over it.

Trubel nodded. “Yeah.”

“Where is he?”

“I can take you,” she said.

“The Verrat knows he's got that trunk. He's already killed one of them. They're gonna be looking for that.”

Hank nodded. “I’ll stay with the car. You two go up.”

They nodded back and followed Trubel into the hospital, heading up to a room. She knocked softly on the slightly open door before heading inside. Josh looked up from his seat by the bed. “Hey, this is the guy that your dad wanted to meet.”

Nick nodded, going over to the bed as well. Rolek was frail looking in the bed, eyes closed, breathing labored even with an oxygen supply to his nose. His wrinkles seemed thicker and his silver hair thinner in a way that felt like the life was leaking out of him. “I'm, uh, Nick Burkhardt. This is Sloane Larson.”

Josh nodded, unsure. “He came all the way to see you. I think it's too late.”

“Could I talk to him?” Nick asked hopefully.

Josh sighed but nodded. “Yeah. You can try.” He gently took his father’s hand, another going to his shoulder to gently jostle him slightly. “Dad?”

His eyes fluttered and he was confused a moment. “Huh?”

“Nick Burkhardt's here,” Josh said.

Rolek’s head lulled over to Nick and he had a palatable look of relief on his face that made Nick squirm a little. “I know you came a long way to see me…and I'm sorry it took so long,” he said. “But I'm here now.”

His eyes shifted to Sloane and she nodded to him. “My name’s Sloane. I’m also a Grimm, don’t worry.”

Rolek panted softly. “Two…good…I have to give you something…”

“Well, I know where the trunk is,” he said.

He nodded slightly. “That's good. But no... There's... there's something else. Something that was given to me by my father. And his father.” Rolek took a few breaths before continuing. “Josh had nothing to do with the man in the hotel room. I killed him.”

Nick nodded softly, understanding. “He was Verrat.”

“You... you saw the tattoo?” Nick nodded again, while Josh looked between them in confusion.

“You know about all this?”

“Yeah, we do.”

“We’re also police detectives,” Sloane said.

“You can't arrest him,” Rolek said.

“Dad, it's okay. The police know it was self-defense. They told me.”

Nick and Sloane frowned, glancing at one another and then back to him. “Who told you that?” Sloane asked.

Josh frowned. “Detective Donavon. He called me, he said they were on their way here. You didn't know that?”

“Are you sure it wasn't Detective Holtby or Bauer?” Nick asked.

“No, it was Detective Donavon,” Josh said firmly, though looking concerned now.

Rolek sighed. “I have to give you the key…I promised my father...I would protect it and I would pass it on. But Josh isn't one of us.” Josh frowned a bit at that but didn’t argue. “I had to find someone like us. And you're the only one I could... Find. That there are two…” he looked at Sloane again and frowned, squinting. “…Rebecca?” he asked softly.

Sloane was surprised before slowly shaking her head. “No…I’m her granddaughter.”

“Her…ah that’s right, her daughter…didn’t think _she_ would have any children…” he said, chuckling ruefully.

“I hear that a lot…” Sloane sighed. “Do you have a Dead Letter?” Sloane asked a bit more gently.

“No, no…my last hunt was long, long ago and I’ve don’t most everything I needed to. This is the last thing, to pass on the key.”

“Where is it?” Nick asked.

“I'll show you.” He shifted, groaning loudly, reaching out his hand. “Give me my cane.”

“Dad, you can't get up,” Josh said, trying to stop him.

“I have to get my cane,” Rolek said, trying to move. He gasped and then his body grew limp as the monitor that had been beeping softly in the background gave a loud, prolonged keen as he flatlined.

Josh’s eyes widened. “No, dad!”

Doctors and nurses began rushing in, ushering them all out as they brought in the crash cart to try and get his heart going again. Josh looked through the window helplessly as they tried to revive his father. Nick however pulled Sloane and Trubel to the side. “We've got a problem. There's no Detective Donavon in the department. I need you to move that car out of here,” he said to Trubel.

Trubel was shocked but nodded quickly. “All right.”

Nick nodded and then went to Josh, taking his arm. If that Detective shows up, don't let him in there. Call me.” He was firm enough and Josh was in enough shock he nodded quickly. Nick, Sloane and Trubel turned to head out.

“What's up with this key he keeps talking about?” Trubel asked.

“It's a long story.”

“The abridged version of what we know is it has to do with the crusades and a bunch of knights who were Grimms who found something that they thought no one else should have—no, we don’t know what exactly, they didn’t describe it—so they buried it in the black forest and made a bunch of keys that had a map that supposedly leads to where it is.”

“…Wow…”

“Yeah. If you have questions, ask later,” Nick said. His phone rang and he quickly pulled it out. “Hank?... Okay, we’ll be right out. …Right.” He hanged up and looked at Trubel. “Stay here.” He looked at Sloane then. “There’s three guys at the car, they're Verrat and they're armed, and I don't want them knowing what Trubel is.” He looked back at her. “You're gonna stay here and let us handle this, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

Neither Nick or Sloane was convinced but they quickly ran for the exit.

They got out just as Hank had to dive out of the way of a speeding SUV. The three men he’d managed to get on the ground stood up and moved to grab a gun and likely take care of him, but Nick managed to jump up to a car and tackle him to the ground. Sloane rushed another, slamming him into a car hard enough it dented. And sure enough, Trubel came up and socked the third right in the jaw. The SUV sped off, but the three Grimms were embroiled with the men who woged int hundjagers. A fourth one appeared and almost got Sloane when Hank grabbed him and slammed his head into a car. Sloane knocked hers out relatively quickly with the mirror of a car, in time to watch Trubel maneuver around her opponent, grab him, then use a car for a springboard to twist and bring him down, then put his head through a car window.

“…Okay, I know we should be mad you disobeyed orders again, but I’ll be honest, I am very proud of that move,” Sloane said. Trubel smiled.

“Not gonna lie, I’m glad you came too,” Nick said. “You okay, Hank?”

“I’ll live,” he panted, handcuffing a couple of the perps.

“Hey, this means their Verrat, right?” Trubel asked, holding up one of the unconscious men’s hands to show the tattoo.

“Yes…But you can’t be here right now,” Nick said, much more firmly this time.

“He’s right, we’ll have cops here soon and this is going to be hard enough to explain,” Sloane nodded.

“Take the car and head to my house,” Nick said.

Trubel didn’t argue, getting into the car with the keys she’d gotten from Josh to drive off.

It wasn’t too long before the cops did arrive and they said they’d been assaulted in the parking lot. True enough really. Heading back in, Nick and Sloane went to the room where Rolek had been only to see an empty bed and Josh sitting in the chair, looking a bit lost. He looked up them, taking a breath before looking at the bed again. “He…died.”

Nick frowned sympathetically and Sloane did too. “We’re sorry…” Josh didn’t say anything and Nick sighed, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Look, I'm sure you have a lot of questions. So why don't you just do what you have to do here and then come by my place?” Josh still didn’t say anything but that also meant he didn’t argue. “By the way, we've got your car. Just figured that would be a lot easier than explaining what's in it. I'll have an officer pick you up when you're ready.”

He looked up at them finally, pained but also confused. “What kind of cops are you?”

Nick looked at Sloane who shrugged. “We get asked that a lot. All I can say is, we’re trying our best to do what’s right…”

\-----------------

Getting back to Nick’s, they had a sort of unboxing party where they took out everything in the chest. It was mainly to search for the key, but Sloane was also enjoying looking through some of what was on hand as well. A large bottle of powdered fangs from Königschlange, a jagerbar roh-hatz claw, and ancient looking pugio dagger, and more. But no sign of a key or a hiding place.

“I can't find it,” Nick sighed, checking the chest for any hidden compartments.

“Me neither,” Sloane said, feeling over the spines of the about half a dozen books in the chest.

“If there's a key in here, I have no idea where it is,” Juliette sighed, tipping the stones—bezors if Sloane wasn’t mistaken—back into the pouch she found them in. “But speaking of lost things, have you seen my grandmother's vase?”

Nick frowned, looking at where it should be and then shook his head. They had no way of knowing that day Adalind had snuck into their home to collect a sample of Juliette’s hair and a nightgown, and had to use the vase to knock Renard out when he caught her. Renard knew how to clean up his tracks as well. “No.”

“Guys, there is stuff in here I have never seen in any of your books,” Trubel said, looking through one. “You ever heard of an "Abartige Aasfresser"?”

Nick turned, shining his flashlight on the illustration of a heyena-like wesen. “Not until now.”

“Once,” Sloane said. “But only in passing on group hunt for a group of geiers.”

“You really see this stuff?” Josh asked, looking at them all like he still wasn’t sure about this. Still, it was hard to argue with books and people who knew what they were doing.

“I haven't seen this one yet,” Trubel said.

“But it's all true?” he clarified.

Juliette nodded, looking at him sympathetically. “Some people have kind of a monster within. And Nick can see them, Sloane can see them, Trubel can see them, and your dad could see them.”

Nick looked at him with a serious expression. “Josh, just 'cause you can't see them now, doesn't mean you won't some day.” He looked at Sloane and Trubel, knowing they started seeing them even younger. “Hit me pretty late, too.”

“You were a late bloomer even by male Grimm standards,” Sloane said. “Most inherit in their late teens to early twenties.”

“…I’m not that much older than that,” he said blandly.

“Never said you were a lot older,” she said, smirking. “Just saying, late twenties isn’t quite as normal. But I suppose it is possible.”

“Well, at least I'll know it's real…Sort of,” Josh said.

Nick nodded but sighed in frustration as he put another satchel down. “I can't find this key. Have you ever seen it?”

Josh shook his head. “No. All I know is he was really worried about it. Wanted to get it to someone who would understand.”

“So where else could it be?” Nick pressed, wanting an answer.

“I don't know. I don't even know what we're looking for.”

“Well, he didn't drive all the way here without it, so it has to be here somewhere,” Juliette grunted, vigorously shaking a red velvet bag as if it would pop out.

“And when he told you about it, he was trying to get out of bed, like he was gonna show you where it was,” Trubel said, as if having an epiphany.

Sloane nodded slowly. “There wasn’t anything else in that hospital room. And he couldn’t move far I don’t think.”

“No, yeah, he never got out of the bed,” Josh said.

“Was there anything he did bring in with him?”

Josh nodded slowly then quickly, looking around. “He was asking for his cane.” He saw it resting by the credenza and picked it up, looking at it with a bit of heartache and nostalgia. “He's had this forever. He got it from his dad, who got it from his dad.”

Nick walked over then held out his hand. He gave it to him and he looked it over, trying to see if there was anything that stood out. There was a rather obvious knotch at the the end, near the curved handle, and he gripped the handle. It turned slightly and so he put a bit more pressure on it. The end popped off with the sound like a cork coming from a bottle and he jumped. “Did I break it?”

“I don't think so,” Sloane said. “Can I see?”

Nick nodded, handing it to her. She looked at the handle, noting the small cylindrical pin at the end. “These were very popular with Grimm back a long time ago, to hide messages or small weapons or the like. But to make sure nothing fell out, there’s usually…” she brought the can to eye level and smiled when she saw the circular hole. “A cross bar.” She pressed the cylindrical pin to the hole and a small bit of wood popped out.

“Awesome,” Hank said, smiling in wonder. “I love stuff like this.”

She smiled, pulling the pin out and then tipping the staff piece towards her hand. They heard the slid and then the closed key fell into her hand.

“Is that a key?” Josh asked, not recognizing it in his tablet-like form.

Nick gently took the key from Sloane, giving her a smile that made her feel strange. He then flipped it open, the forked prong coming out. “It is now. I need to call Monroe and Rosalee, the other key is at the shop.”

It only took about half an hour to coordinate and get to the shop. Rosalee showed which floorboard she hid the key under, along with some other important documents. They did ink tests for both keys which they found actually they lined up together perfectly so they were part of the series.

“Nick, remember that map I showed you at my house last year?” Monroe asked, looking at them.

Nick looked thoughtful before nodding. “Yeah, the one that your great-great uncle drew.”

“It was actually great-great-great grandfather on my mother's side,” Monroe corrected, but then shook his head. “But the point is...We are definitely talking black forest.”

“Germany,” Trubel said curiously.

“Yeah, it all seems to go back to Germany…” Juliette nodded.

“Well, we're one key closer to...God knows what,” Monroe sighed.

“I wonder if we'll ever know,” Rosalee sighed.

“I don't think I want to know,” Josh said. Juliette nodded slightly in sympathy. “Well, at least I know my dad wasn't crazy…Unless all of you are.”

They all paused and looked at him and he just smiled sheepishly. Sloane looked back at the map. Curiosity was buzzing in her, but they weren’t certain exactly where to look. It was an adventure for another day, perhaps.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for your patience! Took a little while to get this one just right. Sloane may be feeling some things she's not used to >3
> 
> New wesen:  
Langhen Ohren: "Long Ears". I actually came up with these before the Wilahara episode and decided to keep my name. Trivia time: Hares and Rabbits are actually not that close in genetic relation! It's a sore spot with Langen Ohren, who are the hare related wesen, that Wilahara have that name despite being rabbits.
> 
> Mandibula Trampa: "Trap Jaw". Snapping Turtle. A pet peeve of mine is mistaking tortoises for turtles, buuuut it was way too tempting to make him a snapping turtle. Those guys can be very scary.
> 
> Added in the inheritance bc I want to focus on the next big event: The wedding and Adalind's plot!


End file.
